Starfire slipped away from the rest of the herd unnoticed, whilst Belove tried and failed to pitch a tent. Obviously, this attracted quite a crowd, who aided their friend by comically condemning his efforts.

He nestled himself in the hidden room, the dust now settled, where nopony would think to look for him. Taking one cautious peek outside into the main chamber, he debunked the possibility of being watched.

His horn illuminated with blue magic as he made himself comfortable, leaning up against the rocky wall behind him. Trying not to make too much noise, he slid his saddlebag off of his back and unzipped the flap, levitating a dark reddish-brown hardback titled 'Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide,' from the confines of the cloth. Any previous tomes he had read on the subject of Nightmare Moon had always led him back to this particular book.

“Let’s see...” He said to himself. “Where was I...” Using his magic, he flipped forwards a few pages in the old tome, dust spraying from in-between each dog-eared page. It tickled his nose, but he stopped himself from sneezing. “Ah. Here we are.” He read the passage of black text aloud.

‘There are six elements of harmony, but only five are known. Kindness, laughter, generosity, honesty and loyalty. The sixth is a complete mystery. It is said, that the last known location of the five elements is in the Ancient Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. It is located in what is now The Everfree Forest.’

On the next page was a map of the Everfree Forest, a big red ‘X’ drawn over what he assumed was this ‘Ancient Castle’ that the tome spoke of. It was drawn on the book in red ink, akin to the classic ‘X marks the spot’ seen on the pirate treasure maps of old. It was almost certain that, if Twilight and her group were armed with this knowledge, they are captured in the Castle itself, and were likely still there with Nightmare Moon.

‘Well, at least I know where it is that we’re headed. As long as I follow this map exactly.’ The map was crinkled and dog-eared, yellowed and faded, but he could still make out the route he should take in order to reach his goal. Satisfied, he turned back a page.

“Elements of Harmony.” he found himself repeating, reading the passage over and over again, eyes picking the words clean until nothing was left but bare bone. “Elements of Harmony.”

Kindness.

Laughter.

Generosity.

Honesty.

Loyalty.

Why did the previous expedition fail? Could they not find them? Is it but a myth?

No. Everything else he had believed to be but old ponies tales was coming to life. Why should this be different?

Perhaps they failed to represent the elements correctly? Perhaps they were unsuitable?

Kindness.

Laughter.

Generosity.

Honesty.

Loyalty.

He said them over and over in his head.

Five elements. Five stallions. Was this meant to be? Were they really prophesied to save Equestria from the evil of Nightmare Moon?

He shook the crazy notion away, locking it back in the deep dark depths of his mind.

Hardly. There are SIX elements, only five are known.

Kindness. He thought for a moment. Although he didn’t know him quite as well as the others by now, Starfire still recognised the kindness in Derky’s heart. He had a good, caring soul; he loved and cherished animals, and wanted only to look after them: it was just a shame that they liked him considerably less.

Laughter. Cananor was obviously the joker of the group, somepony with real character and spirit. He seemed to know what to say at just the right times, and his one-liners were hilarious, or hilariously bad, which was just as good. A natural born comedian, his jokes even made Starfire laugh, and that was no small task. How he was destined to be a lawyer, Starfire would never know.

Generosity. Weatherstorm, perhaps? He seemed the generous sort of fellow, which was instantly obvious when he helped Starfire and the children into the Summer Sun Celebration, instead of freezing their flanks off outside. He had told him that night that ‘such generosity was oft unheard of...’

Honesty. That was a tough one. Starfire prided himself in being an honest individual, but he HAD lied to the others, reassuring them he knew where he was going when he obviously did not. Belove was honest in the sense that he would tell a pony what he thought of them to their face. Brutally honest, maybe? It was something to think about, anyway.

Loyalty. Was that Starfire? Could he represent this element? Try as he might, he couldn’t imagine it. Could he say he was loyal to his new friends? He would like to think so, but he had never really HAD friends until a few nights ago, so he was unsure... No. It just didn’t feel... him. There was still another element, one that he might be a better suitor for.

But if all six elements were needed to stop Nightmare Moon, who would represent loyalty? They were one member short in their five stallion party.

Somepony loyal to their country? Their princess? Loyal to the point where they would do anything...

...ANYTHING...

...For their country?

The unicorn’s mouth went dry as he made a startling revelation.

Icarus.

We have to work with Icarus.

“Engaging read?” One minute the entrance to the hidden room was bare, the next it was occupied by a certain bespectacled blue Pegasus pony.

Starfire jolted in fright at his sudden appearance, the blue tint that engulfed the room extinguishing at once as he dropped his book. It fell to the stone below with an echoing thud.

“WEATHERSTORM!” He gulped, wide eyed, his heart racing. “Ahem, I mean... Weatherstorm. I did not see you there.”

The journalist’s face displayed no emotion. His monotone tone did not falter. “I can be fairly quiet when I wish to be. And quick.”

Starfire gave the Pegasus a nervous, false cheesy grin. How long had he been there? What had he seen and heard?

“Yes, it is an engaging read,” Starfire tried to sound as innocent as he could, nonchalantly pushing the fallen tome behind him with a rushed swipe of his back leg. “So engaging I didn’t hear you approach.”

“Well,” said Weatherstorm, leaning up against the side of the makeshift doorway, running a hoof through his magnificent gelled manedo. “Perhaps I can have a quick look at it as well? I simply love books. The smell, the experience... there’s nothing quite like it.”

Starfire hoped that Weatherstorm didn’t see the thin bead of sweat work its way down his brow. “Anything for a fellow bibliophile. I’ll make sure to lend it to you once I am finished with it.”

He thought that would be enough to satisfy Weatherstorm’s curiosity. But no. The Pegasus simply cantered into the room and sat down in the middle, making sure to brush the immediate area free of dirt before his body made contact. “Well, I was rather hoping we could read together. As in now. Anything to get away from the fellows out there. No offense to them, but having a civilised conversation is nigh impossible.”

Starfire agreed with a smile and silently cursed his comrade. Perhaps he couldn’t help being so suspicious: being a journalist must have been in his blood. “Where was it...” The unicorn reached behind himself, out of view from prying eyes. His hoof brushed over the hardback tome that lay behind him, and kept on moving. It reached his saddlebag, where he randomly pulled out the first book he came into contact with.

He had to check for himself what book he had pulled from the lucky dip of literature before continuing; just a quick and deft look out of the corner of his eye. “Ah. Beastology: A study of creatures in Equestira. Have you read it?”

“Can’t say I have, sir. I lean further towards fiction.”

“Oh, it’s fascinating,” Starfire bluffed, pulling out facts he had learned at school. “Part of a series. This tome delves into the years after the unification of Equestria," he struggled to remember his old history lessons. He specialized in science, after all. He quickly switched gears back into biology. "A personal favourite section of mine discusses the Changeling race, who feed off of...”

Weatherstorm silenced him with a gesture. “Well, that all sounds engrossing and I shall have to borrow it some time. However, at this present moment I wish to read the tome that you were reading prior to my arrival.”

Starfire jumped up defensively. “What are you talkin’ about?” He stammered, looking far too nervous for an innocent stallion. “That was what I was reading.”

The Pegasus tilted his black rimmed glasses. “Really? I’m afraid my eyesight must be going, for that does not say ‘Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide,’ to me, but I apologise if I’m wrong."

Starfire silently cringed and waved his hooves above his head, motioning for him to be quiet. The others were only in the next room, after all. Weatherstorm did as he was told and sat there looking not smug, but somewhat pleased with himself.

“How,” Starfire whispered, a little too loudly. He adjusted his pitch. “How did you know? How long?”

“Since before we left.” Answered Weatherstorm, crossing his forelegs on the ground. “I had a little chat with Rarity’s darling little sister Sweetie Belle who directed me to the library, in search of a particular book whose identity was concealed at the time. However, the dragon at the library was ever so helpful when I asked, giving me the name of the book I was searching for. Obviously he missed his companion and was really clutching at straws. However, there was a snag; the book I was searching for,” he nearly said the title out loud before stopping himself, not wanting to risk any nosy ears catching wind of Starfire’s little secret. “You know the one, had already been checked out earlier by a unicorn matching your description. You just beat me to it. That leaves me with a question, however; why?”

As much as he hated to admit it, this Pegasus was good with a capital excellent. “I don’t know.” He sighed. “Maybe it was the thrill of being in a new town that clouded my judgement. Maybe I just wanted to feel part of something, and maybe I did it to prove to Cheerilee, my class, and the scientific community that I can be responsible. Deep down, I knew that it was to help Equestria in its time of need, but... I don’t know. I should have left it to the professionals but there’s something about Icarus I don’t trust. Did you see how hasty he was to grow hostile with us back there? We are technically interfering, but... I can’t shake the feeling there is something he isn’t telling us.”

Sensing that the student was cleverly attempting to change the subject, Weatherstorm brought it back on track. “So tell me, what do you know about Nightmare Moon?”

“Not a substantial amount. I completed a course in Equestrian Mythology back in high school, but my knowledge is sketchy at best. I know her name is Luna, Celestia’s younger sister, who was banished to the moon when she refused to lower it out of jealousy for her sister’s popularity 1000 years ago. That’s about it, I guess.”

“And,” Weatherstorm was firing out the questions like a tennis ball serving machine. “This talk of ‘tracing her magic...’”

Starfire hesitated. “I know that I’ve been leading you in circles, but I needed you to believe me long enough for me to get a good look at this map. I’m not trying to lie to anypony, it just sort of... happened.”

“So if we lose that map, we’re lost. Excellent.” Weatherstorm cynically sighed.

“You won’t tell Belove, will you?” Starfire’s voice cracked with panic. He took a second to compose himself. “He doesn’t trust me as it is. If he finds out...”

Weatherstorm placed a re-assuring hoof on the unicorn’s shoulder. “Of course I won’t. I’m no common snitch, I assure you. Besides,” he gave him a warm, comforting smile which made all of Starfire’s problems melt away. “You’re a brainy sort of fellow and I trust you, and I am still in your debt for helping me. So worry not. Your little secret is in safe hooves.”

Starfire’s face lit up. “Belove won’t find out?”

“He won’t hear a word from me. And you have my word as a gentlecolt on that.”

“Celestia darn it!” Swore Belove, bringing the hammer down on his hoof for a third time in a row. This sparked a chorus of laughter from his less than helpful friends. The guard turned and glared. “I’d like to see you muppets do better.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re pitching a tent Belove,” replied Cananor. “Just grab your sleeping bag and lie in here for the night.”

Belove gulped and looked back into the cave. It wasn’t the darkness or the confined nature of the cave he was worried about, it was the creepy crawlies. Although he was too proud to admit it to his friends, spiders scared him. Bats scared him. Heck, even certain types of flies scared him. And he knew that all of the above, as well as other unidentified horrors, lurked in there.

“It’s perfectly simple, like,” He brimmed with over confidence. “I know what I’m doing, so I do. They teach us how to do these things in the AAAGGHH!”

The hammer missed its target, a large wooden stake, and came crashing down on the Earth Pony’s hoof for a fourth time.

The tool instantly fell to the grass with a thump and his hoof instinctively went in his mouth, battered red and throbbing with pain.

“Did they teach you to do that too?” Cananor’s response was met with an uproar of laughter. "Have you been drinking? Because you seem HAMMERED to me!"

The tent, barely in an upright position and struggling to maintain so, crumpled to the dirt seconds later. Belove frowned. “But you’re right. Despite going against military procedure, a cave will do.” He hurriedly pushed the useless tent to one side, reaching back into his saddlebag and producing a copper red bundle of material, before joining his friends in the cave.

They had certainly spruced the place up in the few short hours they had been there; several candles burned brightly placed in dips in the walls, illuminating the cave in a much more inviting and aesthetically pleasing glow. Some of the idle cobwebs that fluttered from the ceiling like streamers had been taken down by the Pegasi, and the majority of the loose rocks and rubble had been cleared away by the unicorns. Four sleeping bags lay on a flat area of the rocky ground in a semi-circle, huddled around the skeleton of a campfire. Several rocks had been placed in a circle shape in the middle, and all that was needed was a little kindling. Not too hard to source, considering they were in a forest.

Dragging his saddlebag behind him, Belove unfurled his sleeping bag and flapped it once, snapping through the air like a whip. Then he gently lowered it to the floor.

Probably rats, too. And cockroaches.

He shuddered. He wasn’t scared. Of course not. It wasn’t like they’d crawl all over him whilst he slept...

What really worried him was the spider he had annoyed earlier. What if it wanted to extract vengeance during the night? What if he awoke to find himself cocooned in a web, his screams muffled by spidery fibres, slowly digested?

That’s stupid. Honestly, you’re worse than ‘Stormy now.

Speaking of which, he was starting to grow extremely suspicious of the Pegasus. He had seen him sneak off to the far end of the cave, where he and Starfire had talked in hushed, whispered voices. Belove couldn’t decipher what they were saying, but it all seemed a little strange to him. And when they had finished, they simply returned as though nothing had happened.

Both looked like they were harbouring secrets. Secrets that he wanted to know. Secrets he would to find out.

One way, or another.

“...And they were never heard from again. They say on clear nights during a full moon, much like tonight, you can still see the horrifying ghosts of the cowponies, looking to expand their cursed herd.” Cananor finished his ghost story with a chilling laugh. The only pony who he seemed to have scared was himself. He quickly threw a blanket over himself to disguise the shaking.

Derky reached over and stuffed his face with another mouthful of marshmallow. “Wow. That’s pretty heavy,” He spat out between chews, gooey sweet treats stuck to the roof of his gums.

Of course, Belove disproved the story at once. “That’s rubbish. There were no cowponies around these parts. That story is fake.”

“Way to ruin the mood there, killjoy.”

“Derky, pass the bag.” Starfire asked, scooping up a handful of marshmallows with his hoof. He attacked one to the end of his stick, roasting it over the blazing fire until the puffy white exterior turned a rich golden hazel. He blew on it once, and then into his mouth it went.

He had to admit, he was quite enjoying the company of the others. Back in Fillydelphia, he hadn’t many friends. Not that he didn’t have any, but he didn’t really share that much time with them. They weren't the sort. Out here in the country, however, he felt like he was having a real boys own adventure, one that was nigh impossible in the city. And he was taking a shining to his new comrades. Belove was still fairly hostile, but he was sure that, as time went on, they would trust each other a little more. In a way, making such good friends made him a little sad: when he finished his degree and moved back home, it would be back to mundanity.

The unicorn didn’t dwell on those thoughts. He was here on a mission. Whatever the future may bring, now was not the time to think of it.

The only pony not huddled around the campfire was Weatherstorm. He sat on a rock a little distance away, scribbling on a piece of paper with a quill. Every now and then he would pause, look up at the ceiling, and then continue to write.

Cananor snuggled in closer to his blanket, munching on a s’more, making unsavoury ‘nom’ sounds with every bite. “Ey Reatferstum, o you nah eny got ghos stores?”

The Pegasus looked up from his work, unsure of whether Cananor had said his name or not. “Pardon?”

“Ah shed, o you noh an good scery stroies?” He repeated, completely undecipherable.

Weatherstorm sighed. “Can you please swallow before asking me again?”

Cananor obeyed, the s’more ceasing to be. “I said, do you know any good ghost stories?”

Weatherstorm shook his head. “No, I’m afraid that I do not. Why do you ask?”

Cananor rolled his eyes. “Uh, because you’re the CREATIVE one, duh. Are you writing one now?”

“No, I’m...”

“Can I see?”

“No.”

“What is it?”

“It’s...” He hesitated for a moment, expecting laughter. “It’s just a little poem that I’m writing for Rarity.”

Belove held back a giggle. “You’re writing a poem? Can we read it, then?”

Weatherstorm held the sheet tight to his chest. “No,” he said sharply, with a hint of annoyance. “It’s not finished. Keep your filthy hooves off of it.”

“Yoink!” Despite his protests, the journalist’s sheet was magically snatched from him in an ice blue aura. Like an obedient dog, the magic returned to its owner and dropped the scroll into Cananor’s outstretched hooves. “Thank you.”

Weatherstorm jumped to his hooves in a desperate bid to protect his property, but it was too late. Cananor began to read as Weatherstorm sulkily slunk back to his seat.

‘She’s an angel

White and pure

Like snowfall

And a breath of winter’s chill.

Her laugh like a heavenly bugle

Is dainty and feminine

Yet fuelled with raw power

And drops whole armies to their hooves.

Every time I gaze

Upon her beautiful form

I can’t help but feel

Alive, overcome

With both sadness and joy

With love and remorse.

She’s perfect, no matter what

Others say, absolutely

Perfect, like she was molded

By the hooves of a god

As she molds her

Works.

A true Rarity,

I yearn for no other.

Burning with desire to be

Hers, and for her

To be mine.

Love at its purest,

For it is true love,

I look at her,

Just another face

Out in the crowd

And I feel lost.

I love her from afar

And dream

She loves me back.’

The room was silent for a moment, before Belove burst out laughing. “That’s it? No offense, my friend, but stick to writing articles. It didn’t even rhyme.”

Blushing, Weatherstorm swooped past and snatched back his poem, quickly folding it up and cramming it into his saddlebag. His voice shook as he spoke. “Thank you for the public humiliation, Cananor. It wasn’t meant to rhyme. The free verse symbolises my unbound, unrestricted love for her. It’s romantic.” He furrowed his brow. “And like I said, it isn’t finished.”

Belove smirked, opening another can of oats that he magically produced from his bag. They were left burning over the campfire. “You really like that mare, don’t you?”

“If you’re referring to Miss Rarity then yes, yes I do.” Weatherstorm grumpily replied, sitting down with the rest of the group. “I thought that was fairly obvious by now.”

“She is pretty good looking.” Belove smiled, sticking a spoon into his can of military grade rations. “I’ll say that much.”

Starfire was curious. He levitated another marshmallow from the packet before asking. “What about you, Belove? Do you have a very special somepony?”

The earth pony licked his face clean with a slurp of his long equine tongue. “Yep. She’s probably back in Ponyville, eagerly awaiting my victorious return.”

“I doubt it.” Cananor chirped in, molten marshmallow smeared across his face. He pulled a comic book from his rucksack, which was brimming with useless trash and junk food. "She's too much like you. I wouldn't be surprised if she's hitting on that big red guy who works up on the farm right now."

“What about you, Cananor? Is there anypony that you’ve taken a fancy to?”

The unicorn didn’t look up from his comic. “Nope. Phoenix is the only love of my life.”

Starfire raised an eyebrow at the statement. “Really? Nopony at all?”

“Well,” Cananor peeked over the top of his book, giving them only half of his attention. “There was one.”

Belove slapped him on the back, the comic he was reading slipping from his grip and nearly sailing into the flames of the open fire, which crackled and spat at him like vicious animals, had it not been for Starfire who managed a magical save.

“Would you be careful you brute?” Cananor growled angrily at Belove. “That’s a collector’s edition!”

Of course, the Earth Pony was too proud to apologise. “I didn’t know you had a crush! Who is it, Lemon Hearts?”

“Nope.”

“Amethyst Star?” Derky inquired.

“I’m pretty sure she’s married, so... no.”

“In my humble opinion, I think you and Pinkamena would be quite the match.” Weatherstorm offered his input. “After all, she’s funny, you’re funny...”

“You mean Pinkie Pie? Yeah, she’s great. We started up a little ‘Phoenix Flight’ fan club back in the day. We were the only members in Ponyville, don’t you know! But no, my heart belongs to another.”

“I can’t take it!” Belove grabbed his unicorn friend by the shoulders. “Who is it already?”

“You wouldn’t know her.” He gave him a sly smirk. “She’s not from Ponyville.”

“Tell me already!” Whined the guard, eager to get the juicy dirt. Weatherstorm, too, leaned close.

“Well, a few years back, my aunt had to go to the official ribbon cutting for the new settlement of Appleloosa, what with her being Mayor of Ponyville. Appleloosa is way out in the countryside.”

“Even more rural than Ponyville?” Asked Starfire. Coming from a city, Ponyville was about as rural as his mind could allow him to imagine.

“Way more rural. Heck, this was out in the middle of a desert. Anyway, I went with her. Any excuse to get away from my nag of a mother and bully of a father, you know? Whilst I was there, I laid eyes on the most beautiful mare I have ever seen. Such gentle, captivating green eyes...” Their friend began to drift away from them and back to the sandy streets of Appleloosa in a wonderful, romantic daydream. “...and luscious candlelight orange hair. She was a real country girl.”

“What happened, may I ask? Did you express your feelings for her?”

“Naw, man.” Cananor came back to his senses. “She was fairly popular round those parts and I was only one suitor out of many. Besides, I knew that my father wouldn’t, well... ‘agree’ with my romantic interests. He’s just like that.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Starfire offered him his sympathy. “What was her name?”

Cananor smiled, imagining the pony's face in his mind once more.

“Braeburn.”

Weatherstorm looked up from the hypnotising dancing of the campfire’s flames, which licked at the shadows of the cave.

“Braeburn? Forgive me, but isn’t that a stallion’s name?”

Cananor spat out his mouthful of chewed up foodstuff upon realisation of what he had just said. “BRAEBELLE!” He screamed loudly, the name echoing through the cave like a disembodied chant. “I meant Braebelle.”

The unicorn’s embarrassment burned with more of a red hot glow than the campfire did. Starfire decided it was time to change the subject, to spare the poor fellow from further ridicule.

“I thought your poem was very nice.” He said, this time to Weatherstorm. Belove began to protest that it was ‘rather rubbish’ but stopped himself. Starfire was allowed to continue, uninterrupted. “You got your cutie mark for writing, didn’t you?”

Weatherstorm nodded, emotionlessly. He looked down at his cutie mark, a rolled up scroll beneath a shimmering moon. “Something like that. I wrote for the school paper when I was a foal.”

“Oh?” Starfire leaned forwards, head cupped in his hooves. “Would you tell us how you got it?”

“It’s not really that interesting.” The Pegasus seemed a little uneasy when Starfire asked the question, squirming uncomfortably. “I just wrote an article and it appeared.”

Belove yawned. “Aye, it sounds really dull. Now, the story of MY cutie mark...”

Everypony instinctively groaned. They knew what was coming.

“...Is far more interesting. Here, scooch closer, because this story is so exciting it’ll knock your socks off.”

“We’re not wearing socks...”

“Quiet! I’m beginning my story.”

As you can guess, I was a pretty special foal. The doctor said so when I was born. At school I was getting top grades, of course, and I was very talented. Aye, my parents adored me, and I couldn’t blame them.

“Mam!” The little earth pony beamed as he flung open the wooden half-door to his family home, his end of year grades held aloft in his hoof like a sacred parchment, flapping in the wind. “Mam!”

Belove lived in a modest household, which was a polite way of saying that he lived in a shoebox. Little more than a pile of mud and bricks on the outskirts of town, his one story residence was barely able to house his mother, his sister and himself. Proud owners of a few acres of dust, their farm was hardly a successful one. They had little in the way of commodities and their life was a simple one but, to that little colt, home was home.

He was taught to make do with what life gave you.

He happily pronked his way through the doorway, grinning from ear to ear. The door slammed shut behind him, rattling on its hinges, literally held on with rust. An idle can rolled across the barren room, encased in filth. “Mam! I got the test results!”

It took the colt a few moments to get a response. First, the sound of creaking, rotting floorboards, then the kitchen door swung open, and there stood his mother to greet his arrival.

“Son,” she croaked, forcing a smile and leaning on the rickety old planks of wood they called a table for support. “You’re home. How did you do?”

Belove’s mother was a frail earth pony, with a green coat and wiry grey hair. She wasn’t particularly old, but she was very sick and tired, and years of running a farm alone had taken its toll on her body. Belove had never known his father, and he was rarely brought up in conversation. Any attempts made by the colt were met only with silence by his mother.

The colt cantered up to his parent and embraced her lovingly, for every child idolises their mother. “Here, mammy!” He said, his voice full of cheer and innocence and dripping with everything good in the world of Equestria. He gave his grade sheet to his mother, eagerly awaiting her verdict, for mother’s verdict was law.

As you can well imagine, both my parents were pleased with my results. But then, why wouldn’t they be?

“What is this?” Belove’s mother pushed her son away from her. Despite her skeletal figure, she was still fairly strong. “You got a C+?”

Belove tried once again to hug his mother, to no avail. He gulped, knowing that those stern, focused eyes meant business.

He lowered his head and flattened his ears against his scalp in shame. “I thought... you’d be happy.”

“HAPPY?” Belove’s mother’s voice shook in anger and frustration. She crumpled the sheet in her hoof, tossing it into the small trashcan that lay beside her, overflowing with foul smelling garbage. “Why would I be happy? Begorra, you’re better than a C+, for crying out loud!” Her knees buckled and her breathing became erratic, forcing the youngster to ease her into a creaking old, termite infested chair.

“Mam?” He asked, concern growing for his unwell mother. “Mam, are you okay?”

“I’m... fine.” She wheezed, leaning back in the chair. “But these grades are unacceptable. You should be getting A+, not a stinkin’ C! Your sister got A’s all round... so why...” She coughed; a raspy, chesty hack. “...Why can’t you? You're just as brainsmart as her.”

Belove was having a hard time as of late. His mother was a strong willed mare, but that can only get you so far. Over the past few months, she had become far too sick to look after the farm by herself and, without a stallion of the household, it fell on young Belove to pick up his father’s tools, farm the land and make money for his deprived family. Whilst he enjoyed working outdoors, having a full time job was having a serious negative effect on his schoolwork. However, his mother would hear none of it. She was the hard-headed sort who, in her mind, was always right. He knew better than to argue, so he said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” He whimpered, tears forming in his eyes. “I’ll do better next time, I swear.”

They were so pleased, in fact, that I got a special treat. But then again, that was nothing new.

“Aye, you will.” His mother sighed, breathing heavily. She closed her eyes. “Go to your room and study. You’re going to do a LOT better next time, or Celestia help me...” She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to.

Belove politely excused himself, hurriedly scurrying past her judgemental glare. He could feel her eyes on him, burning a focused beam into the back of his head like the sun’s rays amplified in a magnifying glass.

He waited until he reached his matchbox of a bedroom before he slumped to his bed, defeated. Outside, the sun was setting over the horizon, rolling green hills. The outside world, where the possibilities were endless. Undiscovered countries, new, interesting life forms... he dreamed of adventure. But no: his place was here, looking after his mother and younger sister.

He waited until he heard his mother’s unsteady hooves clop along the hallway to her closet of a room before he put his face in his hooves and wept. He wouldn’t let her see him cry. He was too proud.

And he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Cananor screwed up his nose. “I don’t get it,” he said in-between mouthfuls of potato chips. “You keep talking about your school grades. When do we get to the bit where you get your cutie mark?”

Belove lowered himself back down onto his seat. “I was getting to that part. You’re so impatient, so you are.”

“I’m find this hard to believe.” Starfire admitted. “You say your father was a rich oil tycoon? I didn’t even know there was oil reserve in Ponyville.”

“Aye, because somepony who has lived in town for a few months knows all about the town, yeah? Keep out of it, city slicker. This is MY family and MY cutie mark we’re discussing here, right? I think I know what I’m talking about.”

“Right." Starfire said, annoyance there for all to hear. "Sorry.”

“Anyway, where was I?”

Oh yeah, it was school sport’s day, and I was raring to go.

Belove felt sick to the stomach as he took his place on the starting line, nestled amongst his fellow pupils. He felt so tired. The hot, heavy summer’s sun beat down furiously upon his back, and it was days like these that he wished that he hadn’t all this cumbersome fur.

He blew his long, oak mane from his eyes once more. He was meaning to have it cut. In this brief window of visibility, he saw the other contenders and his stomach did a summersault. There, three places down, was Thunder Charger and his lackey Barry Brick, the school bullies.

Thunder’s face meant business. He flexed his handsome white wing and stretched his long, slender hooves, rearing for a race. The young Pegasus nudged his rather dim witted friend upon Belove’s timid arrival. Belove caught a glimpse of the two sniggering, talking in hushed, malevolent voices. They were talking about him, he was sure of it.

Gulping, he turned up to the bleachers where his mother sat, barely visible amidst the multitude of other ponies, proud parents giving their foals some last minute encouragement. It took him a few moments to find his mother’s pale, sullen face wedged in between so many pastel coloured others. He waved at her, seeking words of encouragement like a nervous child does. She merely gloomily glared back at him. It did nothing to heighten his spirits.

His teacher trotted onto the circular dirt runway, dressed in loose fitting black and white garbs, reminiscent of a zebra. The crowds grew silent. Belove grew pale.

The teacher brought the whistle to her lips, then paused, giving the participants enough time to get into position. “On your marks...” She boomed into the loudspeaker, her voice so powerful it shook the spectator stands.

Belove heard his name called, barely above a husky whisper. He anxiously turned his head, already knowing what was to come.

Thunder gave him one of his cocky, sarcastic smiles and violently ran his hoof across the length of his neck. “Hey BeLOSER,” he jeered, accompanied by his companion’s cruel laughter. “Why even bother? You’re finished!”

The little earth pony tried his best to ignore them, focusing instead on getting himself into position. He had to come first. He had to get gold. His mother expected nothing less than first place. She was watching his every move. One slip up...

“Get set!” Everypony raised their flanks, front hooves spread, back legs ready to propel them forwards in a moment’s notice. Belove didn’t feel up to this: not today. Working the farm day after day had left him weak, fatigued, and drowsy. He shook himself awake.

‘No,’ he thought, squinting his eyes, trying to keep himself focused. ‘I can’t lose. I NEED to win. I need...’

“GO!” The whistle took him by surprise, piercing through his skull like an explosion. He barely had time to gather himself before nine young foals flashed past him, jolting from their positions at incredible speed, leaving him quite literally in the dust.

The earth pony forced himself forwards, already far behind the others. To his sides, he heard the bellows of the onlookers, chanting their children’s names and cheering them on. The only name he didn’t hear was his.

Nearly stumbling over his own hooves, he passed one of his classmates, a unicorn colt by the name of Twinkle. He was trying his best, but the poor thing wasn’t in great shape, and was finding it difficult keeping up with the others. Belove galloped by him with relative ease, almost feeling sorry for the guy as he heard his tragic huffs and puffs grow fainter and fainter into the distance.

I was miles ahead of the competition, naturally.

Belove’s chest heaved as he ran as fast as his body would physically allow, trying to make up for lost time. He passed another of his fellow students, Pinkie as she was known by her friends, happily bouncing along the track at her own pace without a care in the world. Her family lived on a rock farm near his house, but her parents were far less strict than his own mother. They cheered for her from the sidelines, blowing their party horns with genuine enthusiasm. In a way, he envied her.

‘Two places down,’ He thought. ‘Not good enough.’

The earth pony pushed himself harder, hooves kicking up dirt and grass from the track in great clumps, edging closer to the main bulk of the racers. Lowering his head in effort, he passed the new kid, then Toffee Treat and Gumball Surprise, Sparkler and finally Cananor on the second turn. The sun blinded him for a moment as he made the second turning, bleachers and grandstands no longer shielding him from direct sunlight.

‘Come on,’ he urged himself to keep going, images of his mother’s scornful face fighting off the urge to sleep. ‘I HAVE to win. Only two more places.’

Barry Brick was in second place, perhaps on purpose. The huge, hulking beast of an earth pony was not what you would call an ‘independent thinker’, rather he took his orders from his only friend, Thunder Charger. And it seemed that the strategy here was for Barry Brick to keep any brave enough to get close away from Thunder Charger, so he could win and lap up all the praise as usual.

Upon hearing the sound of galloping hooves, Barry turned to find Belove hot on his tail. That wouldn’t do at all.

What Barry Brick lacked in brains, he made up for in brawn and, surprisingly, speed. Belove was, admittedly, a fast runner, but he was having a hard time keeping alongside the lumbering brute.

The towering meat stack glared angrily as the colt ran alongside him, edging closer and closer forwards. Belove didn’t have time to wipe the sweat from his eyes. He continued on, blind, running on nothing but self determination and a little bit of fear.

The first blow came out of nowhere, Barry Brick slamming into Belove in a sideways swipe, nearly knocking the colt right off of his hooves. The Earth Pony stumbled as a result of the assault, but managed to recover before tumbling to the ground in a pathetic pile of disappointment. Barry shot him another glance, this time more worried.

I’m sorry to interrupt your delightful little story, Belove, but is this the same Barry Brick who is now a serving member of the Ponyville guard? The very same that Starfire and I had the delight of conversing with on the night of the Summer Sun Celebration?

Aye, the same. Now whisht, it’s getting good. The brute tried to ram me again; big mistake. He went crying back to his mammy after I had finished with him.

Belove winced again as Barry’s powerful body collided with his, trying desperately to run him off the track. To Belove, it was like running headfirst into a brick wall. His name was certainly appropriate.

Winded, he somehow managed to muster up the willpower to continue, pain from both the running and constant battering spreading through his chest like a wildfire. His legs ached. His chest ached. His head throbbed. Yet he continued to run, like his life depended on it.

Barry snorted. Since Belove couldn’t take a hint, it was time to break out the big guns. And by that, his plan was to ram the troublesome fool. Really hard.

Belove gasped as he saw big ol’ Barry break away from his side, veering to the right of the track like a stampeding Buffalo. He reached the edge of the dirt track at the third corner, gave Belove a rather gormless yet malevolent smile, then charged sideways, muscular shoulder poised like a battering ram.

His war cry of “RRRRAAAAAAGGGHHHH!” as he barrelled closer forced Belove to take action. Right before Barry’s shoulder became familiar with Belove’s face, the earth pony slammed on the breaks, skidding to sudden and, for Barry, unfortunate stop. Unable to stop, Barry Brick’s front heavy body pulled him sideways; crashing with all his weight into one of the newly planted apple trees that the Apple family had kindly donated to the school. Belove resumed running as Barry stumbled dazedly, choosing to waste as little time as possible. He had a race to win, after all.

Giving one quick glance back, Belove spotted an ever shrinking Barry Brick stagger to his hooves, trying to stand after such a collision. A few apples were shaken loose from their branches, falling from heaven like holy vengeance, each one landing on his scalp with a dull thud. What little sense young Barry had was knocked clean out of his head that day.

Belove couldn’t help but smile as he sped ahead. ‘That felt pretty good.’ He smirked. ‘Pretty darn good.’

With a newfound rush of adrenaline, Belove flew down the racetrack like a professional racehorse, closing the gap between himself and Thunder Charger.

This was between me and him now, and Thunder was the only obstacle standing in the way of victory.

Thunder Charger did not expect to see Beloser rattling towards him like a freight train, steely gazed and smiling. He was shooting along at phenomenal speed, and was only meters away from stealing Thunder’s gold medal, which was rightfully HIS.

Belove enjoyed the little spark of fear in his opponent’s eye. He knew that the gold mdeal was going home with him.

They were coming into the final corner now, neck and neck, pony packed stands whizzing by in a blur of colour. Thunder Charger, straining with effort, gasped, “You... can’t... win, BeLOSER.”

Belove sneered back, staring deep into his eyes, sweat gushing from every pore like a waterfall. “Watch me.”

‘Watch me,’ I said, and Bam!

Cool.

So what did you do? Cheat?

Ah, no way. I won that race fair and square.

Belove’s hoof shot out to the side in a flash of forceful fury mid gallop, slipping right under Thunder’s madly thrashing legs as they approached the finishing line. Thunder let out a barely audible ‘eep’ of surprise as he felt himself tripping, falling, victory falling from his grasp and slipping through his hooves. He hit the dirt face first, skidding in the dirt for a few meters, his hooves an entangled mess which trailed behind him.

The crimson colt sailed across the finish line as a chorus of cheers erupted from the bleachers. He slowed his pace to a jog, and then stopped altogether, looking up at those happy faces above him. They all chanted his name, like he was some sort of royalty; he liked it.

His teacher cantered alongside him, levitating a gold medallion from a fold up table and hanging it around his neck. Belove shivered as the cold metal pressed against his skin. It was delightfully heavy and shone like the sun itself, casting a winner’s glow whichever way he turned his head. #1 was engraved in the gold. He followed the shape with his hoof as he was led to a podium, taking his place on the middle step, displaying his dominance over the others like a king overlooking his kingdom.

‘All these faces,’ Belove thought, his eyes filled with wonder. ‘Looking at me. All these voices, chanting my name. I... I love it.'

I can’t describe what it felt like. All that praise. All that attention. I was being rewarded, for doing well. And it was just... magical.

I thought you were used to that? It certainly sounded like it.

Uh... Aye, of course I was.

Belove had never experienced such attention before. They spotlight was on HIM, and he found the experience exhilarating. For once, he felt valued. Like he was somepony. And something changed in that shy little foal that day. He found himself questioning, ‘Why can’t I have ALL the attention ALL the time?’

The truth of the matter was, he liked being praised. It was a foreign feeling, but one he could certainly could get used to.

“Young man,” came a husky, gravelly voice behind him. The little earth pony turned to find a stranger, a fairly well built unicorn, wearing the uniform of the Ponyville guard. Though a scar ran the length of his face, his smile was warm and welcoming. “Young man, that was fine racing.”

Belove put a hoof to his chest. “Are you talking... to me?”

The unicorn nodded, swishing his grey mane behind him. “Indeed I am, son. Fine racing. If only I could say the same about my Cananor.”

It was then Belove realised that this stranger was Cananor’s father. Cananor didn’t talk much about his dad, which was understandable as, neither did he. But now that he had seen him, in the flesh, he seemed magnificent, like the dad Belove had always yearned for.

“You know,” he continued, placing a hoof around the child. “You seem the sort who likes adventure, don’t you?”

Belove’s eyes sparkled. “Adventure?”

“You know, action! Exploration! Visiting faraway lands, meeting new ponies!” The unicorn continued, his eyes curling into a grin. “Does that sound good to you?”

Belove cradled his medal, turning it back and forth like a good luck charm. “Yeah... yeah, it does!”

Cananor’s father laughed. “Good man! The Ponyville guard could use somepony like you. Somepony with a ‘can do’ attitude!”

“Ponyville guard... me?”

The grizzled unicorn gave him a friendly wink and a nudge. “Think about it.” With that, he trotted off to collect his son. He turned before he went through the gate. “Congratulations on your cutie mark, by the way!”

“Huh?” Belove span around and inspected his flank. There, shining just as bright as his treasured reward was a shining gold medallion. His cutie mark.

Wait, you were talking to my DAD?

Aye, I called him ‘Your dad’ like, four times.

Then why don’t I remember this conversation?

Because he talked to me in private. Duh. Now shush. I’m almost finished.

That’s a relief.

Belove’s mother walked him home, back to his farm, a dustbowl of ashes and dead-end dreams. “Belove,” she rasped, holding her child by the hoof. “You did so well today. I'm very proud. I saw you talking to Captain Blue Brigade. What was he saying?”

“He was just... congratulating me, mammy.”

"Is that so?" She raised an eyebrow, her wrinkles tunnelling their way up her forehead. “Was that all?”

Belove stroked his medal tenderly. “And... he told me about the Ponyville guard.”

His mother pulled her hoof away from his, leaned over with a grunt of effort, and stared the colt straight in the eye. “No, Belove. You’re not joining the Ponyville guard.”

He avoided her gaze. “But... why not? I want to see the world, mam, I want to...”

He was silenced by his mother’s hoof pressing softly against his lips. “I know I’m a wee bit harsh on you Belove,” she explained, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “But it’s for your own good. I want to see you do well in life...”

Belove pushed away. She held him in place.

“I want to see you get an education. I want to see you attend university. I want to see you get a good job, have a good future. You're a smart lad. I know that Blue Brigade's words sound tempting now...” She squeezed her foal closer to her. “...But it isn’t much better than THIS. This farm. You’re better than that.”

Belove pulled away from her grip. “No!” He screamed. “Blue Brigade told me it’s an adventure! He praised me, he likes me, mammy, he... he loves me!”

“Sweetie, I...” she coughed, tears blinding her. “I love you, so I do. You know that. Please, come... come here, Belove.”

Belove broke into a gallop. He didn’t know where he was going, but he needed to get away. His eyes had been opened, and there was no turning back now.

His mother called after him, but that just caused him to run faster, further.

He waited until he heard his mother’s desperate voice faded away into nothing before he put his head in his hooves and wept. He wouldn’t let her see him cry. He was too proud.

And he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Starfire seemed a little surprised by the ending of the story. He took another swig of cool, refreshing water from his canteen before he asked, “You ran away from home?”

“Naw,” he shrugged in response, poking the fire with a marshmallow adorned stick. “I was back by dinnertime. But my mam... a-and me da, too, they didn’t want me joining the guard.”

“But you did anyway?”

“Well, I’m a smooth talker. Even though they would miss me terribly, they knew that I was ready to fulfil my destiny. Besides, the Ponyville guard needed tough, fearless ponies like me. Cananor’s dad said so himself.”

“I don’t remember that conversation at all, so I think you’re talking garbage.”

Sensing another row, Starfire attempted to defuse the situation. “What about your cutie mark story, Cananor? How did you end up with a pair of scales?”

“Eh.” Cananor clambered to his hooves with dismissive wave of his hoof. “I’ll tell you on the night.”

“It is the night, stupid.”

“I meant another night, Belove.”

“What about your cutie mark story, Derky?” Starfire realised his mistake too late, covering his mouth his hooves like he could squash the words back in, or at least prevent any further thoughtless comments escaping his lips.

The blank-flanked Pegasus said nothing for a few seconds, simply staring blank faced at the wall before he finally looked down at the fire, dancing flames reflected in his big, lime green eyes and muttered, “I’ll go get more firewood."

He slowly trotted out of the cave without another word, trailing his hooves behind him.

They watched him go, a metaphorical raincloud hanging quite predominantly above his head. Belove didn’t help matters.

“Aye, I think you’ve upset him.” With that, he frowned. “Don’t think you can get away with upsetting my friends, newbie. I’ll thrash you good.”

“Leave him alone, Belove, you big red jabroni.” Cananor barked sharply, reading his sleeping bag. He turned his attention to Starfire. “I know you didn’t mean to, but I think you’ve hurt his feelings. I would go talk to him, if I were you.”

Starfire bit his lip. “You think he took offense?”

“I dunno. You should apologise anyway.” He nimbly slipped into his sleeping bag like a worm, squirming his way down towards the bottom. He reached over and blew out one of the candles nearest to him. “Goodnight.”

Weatherstorm yawned, a polite little intake of breath, and removed his glasses, placing them in a side compartment of his saddlebag. “I am also rather ‘bushwhacked’ as it were. I might call it a night as well. Gute Nacht.” He too slid into his sleeping bag and was asleep in a matter of minutes.

Starfire hurried out of the cave, expecting to have to start up a little search party in order to locate the missing stallion. In actual fact, he didn’t have to search very hard at all. Derky Bells was directly outside, sitting there like a lost puppy, looking up through the canopy clearing at the full moon.

Starfire approached him apprehensively from behind, juggling the notion of announcing his arrival with the notion of hoping the Pegasus didn’t hold a grudge, and heading back inside.

“I’m not angry, you know.” Derky finally spoke, still facing away from the unicorn. How soft his little voice was. “Sit down if you want.”

Starfire complied, settling down on a nice spot of grass beside him. He sighed and lowered his head. “I’m sorry. It was insensitive, and I wasn’t thinking...”

Derky shrugged it off, like water off a duck’s back. “It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. Uh, I have thick skin.”

Starfire blushed as he stumbled over his words. “I mean, I hope you didn’t... you know, I wasn’t making fun...”

“It’s okay, really.” He laughed. “I just needed some fresh air, that’s all. It’s bleh stuffy in that cave.” He frowned. “Caves. Bah. I don’t like caves.”

“So, uh...” Starfire scratched the back of his head, nervously. “You’re not upset?”

Derky took a deep breath, then released it, forming wispy smoke which floated effortlessly into the night sky. “No. I’ve had a lot worse, really. I, eh... I was bullied a lot at school. You get used to stuff like that.”

Starfire shook his head in disgust. “Nopony should have to experience that. Why?”

“You know, the usual.” He tried his best not to cry, memories flooding back like a horrid tsunami bringing with it disease and pestilence to eat away at his mental wellbeing. “Because of my mane. Because I am not smart. Because I was a blank flank. What didn’t they make fun of me about?”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Derky. Didn’t you tell your parents?”

“My parents?” Derky swiped at a flower with his tail. “My parents. Have, uh... have you ever heard of Bell Incorporated?”

Starfire thought the question a little irrelevant. “Everypony has. The chemicals company that operates Cloudsdale’s Rainbow Factory. I don’t see...” Like a ton of bricks, realisation hit Starfire. “Wait, you mean... ”

Derky nodded. “I thought you would have known, Starfire.”

“But that means you’re a millionaire!” Starfire gasped excitedly. “Multi-millionaire!”

Derky Bells shuddered from the cold, reminiscing about his traumatic childhood. “Money don't buy you happiness. My parents were too caught up in their fancy-pantsy lifestyle to even remember I existed.”

Starfire was still in shock from his recent revelation. He took a moment to suspend his belief. “Didn’t you have anypony to talk to at all?”

“I grew up in Cloudsdale. Despite how nice it looks, the floating city was really a... not a nice place. Weatherstorm was my only friend back then, and to be honest, I think he was only my friend to get close to my parents. I wouldn't blame him: maybe he saw something in them I didn't. Sometimes I think that he might have been the son they wanted after all..”

Starfire found it strange that, although he had fewer chances to speak to Derky as he had the others, he had penned him down as the rather ‘dim’ one. However, speaking one on one to him as he was now, he saw that this was not the case. He wasn’t exactly ‘stupid’ rather he was an inward thinker; somepony who kept their thoughts and emotions to themselves.

Ponies like this tended to find it difficult putting what they wanted to say into words. Yet something about Starfire must have comforted him, for words, as basic was they were, were flowing freely.

“I was one of the the only ponies in my class without my cutie mark,” he continued, gazing at the moon like it would suddenly fix the past. “And they made fun of me day after day. It started with just saying, ‘Blank flank’ but soon they got even worse. And it got to the stage where I would come home from school and I would just cry, alone and afraid. I'm always glad I had Weatherstorm, really. We helped each other. I had to be strong. For him.”

“So what happened?”

“My family left Cloudsdale, moved into a big house in Ponyville. I didn't want to leave my only friend, but I was still young at the time so I had to. Maybe I would, uh... meet new ponies, find my true talent. Little did I know that foals are just as nasty no matter where you are.”

Starfire couldn’t help but feel sorry for the mournful Pegasus, who lived a life of such luxury yet had such a sad childhood. “They made fun of you in Ponyville, too?”

“Not everypony. Just two; Thunder Charger and Barry Brick. They made my life very, very sad, that was, until help came from a strange place.” A gentle breeze blew though the tree cover, playing him a sweet melody like the pluck of a harp. “I never did discover my special talent after all these years and at first I thought it was a curse. I guess now I see it the other way; I don’t pretend to be smart, but I heard a wise old pony once said, “A cutie mark only limits what a talent can be, but a blank flank offers a world of endless opportunities." Or something like that, I guess. I don’t know about you, but that sounds okay to me. That’s why I came here in the first place: I guess I just want to feel valued, like I’m useful for once. I want to be good at something, I do, I do.”

Starfire nodded slowly. The unicorn knew that Derkington was speaking from a raw place. “I know what it’s like to feel worthless, Derky. When I failed my entry exam to the Royal Academy, my cousins, my aunt, my uncle... all scholars, they said I was too young and volatile I believed them. I gave up on my dream listening to others, Derky. Don’t let others deter you from finding yours.”

“Thanks.” Derky turned back to the moon, pale and beautiful, and whispered, “The moon sure is pretty tonight. Big, too.” He sighed, then forced a smile, before casually making his way back inside.

Starfire sat outside for a few more minutes, looking up at those wonderful twinkling stars in the sky and found himself captivated by their beauty. The little talk he had with Derky reminded him of dreams, how he had never achieved his, and how Derky had never discovered his. Yet stars kept on shining, like a shimmer of hope in the distance, a promise of good things, wonderful things, to come if he reached high enough. Like eyes guiding him through the good times, and the bad.

One billion eyes winked at him, and he winked back.

Belove was the only one still awake when Derky came back inside. Both Cananor and Weatherstorm were curled up in their sleeping bags like newborn foals, occasionally stirring and mumbling incoherent nothings under their restful breaths.

The Earth Pony was poking the flames of the fire, infant flames rising up from the ash and dancing at his hooves. He looked as Derky made his way carefully, silently into the cave, tiptoeing least he wake the others from their peaceful slumber.

“Get more firewood?” Belove said a little loudly, Weatherstorm stirring for a brief moment, then turning and hugging his pillow with a soft, delicate groan. Belove continued, quieter this time. “Did you?”

Derky gave one swift nod and dumped a few errant twigs on the fire, the flames consuming them hungrily. “There.” He watched the flames engulf the wood, quickly burning the sticks to ash. Then he yawned, and turned away. “Well, I’m really, really tired. I think I’ll go to sleep now as well. I want to dream of marshmallows.”

He was stopped by Belove. “Stall the ball, Derky.” His voice lowered to such a low tone that Derky could barely hear what he was saying. The earth pony glanced nervously back to the front of the cave, where Starfire sat with their backs to them, watching the night sky, unmoving. “I saw you had a nice wee chattin' session with Starfire, there.”

“Yes, I did.” He smiled innocently. “What’s the problem?”

“My problem,” Belove huffed, grabbing the Pegasus gruffly by the hoof, “Is that everypony is talking in secret all of a sudden, and I don’t like it. So you’d better tell me what all that was about.”

Derky broke away from Belove and scowled. Belove had never seen his companion scowl before, and somehow, he pulled off the expression pretty well. “When I wanted to come along, you gave me one task. To keep an eye on Starfire.”

Belove’s eyes widened. “You mean, you were spying on him all along?”

Derky Bells threw Belove’s notebook back to him. The pages were full to the brim with unintelligible handwriting. “I wasn’t spying, I was getting information.”

Belove hurriedly bundled up the book and flipped through the pages. “Nice! And?”

“And,” Derky poked Belove in the chest with his hoof, driving him back a few steps. “I think he is a really kind pony. He listens to me, and he cares about me. He doesn't treat me like I'm an idiot. I know you think I’m stupid, Belove, but...”

Belove attempted to put his arm around the upset stallion. “Here, you hold on a wee moment. I never said that...”

“But I can tell. You all think so, but not Starfire. You have been very rude to him all day, when all he wants to do is help, because you’re jealous of him. You don’t like somepony else being in charge. He’s not the bad pony here, Belove. You need to say sorry.”

Belove was so shocked by the sudden outburst that, for a brief moment, he was speechless. First his face contorted in confusion, then anger, but then he sighed and lowered his gaze to the floor. The book fell from his grip. “I’m... I’m sorry you feel that way, Derky. I really am.” He sat down on a nearby boulder by the campfire and put his hooves to his face, defeated. “I guess I have been a wee bit hard on him. It’s just...” He sniffed, and if Derky didn’t know the hard-headed stallion any better, he would have sworn he was crying. He could only assume he caught a cold. “I don’t know what I’m doing out here, Derky. Everypony thinks I do but, I... I just don’t. I don't know why I say things sometimes.. But that doesn’t excuse the way I’ve been acting recently. I’ve been a real jerk, like.”

Derky said nothing but sat down beside him, sharing the warmth of the raging fire.

“You know,” Belove said after a minute. “You’re right. Tomorrow, you’re going to see a different Belove. I swear. And I owe Starfire an apology, too.”

As if on cue, Starfire gave one last fleeting look at the blazing moon and burning stars, then turned and made his way back into the cave.

Belove jumped to his hooves and finished his heart to heart with Derky by whispering, “And if you go blabbin', telling him ANYTHING I said, I swear I’ll...” He couldn’t find the word to fit, so instead he just angrily shook his hoof. Then he zipped off at the speed of light, propelling himself into his sleeping bag as though he were asleep the whole time.

Starfire trotted happily into the cave, humming quietly to himself. He stopped when he saw Derky sitting beside the fire, watching it burn away. “I didn’t know anypony was still up. You coming to bed, Derky?”

Derky shook his head. “You know, I’m not really sleepy. I’ll just stay here, rest my hooves, keep a watch on the camp for the night.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Starfire protested. “You need sleep.”

“Please let me keep guard. I want to feel like I’m of some use here.” He gave Starfire his big, green puppy dog eyes. They melted Starfire’s heart. “Besides, I want to see if that mean old cockatrice comes back. If he does, I’m going to give him the cuddle of a lifetime.”

Starfire dearly wanted to assault him with a slew of effects that sleep deprivation have on the body, but gave in. “If that’s what you really want, then make sure to keep the campfire burning. It’ll keep Timberwolves away.”

The unicorn left Derky to his own devices, poking the fire with a stick in his left hoof and eating chocolate chip cookies, courtesy of Cananor, with his right. Trying to make as little noise as possible, he nimbly stepped over Belove’s sleeping form, unzipped his own sleeping bag, blew out his candle and went to sleep, dreaming of what tomorrow may bring.

What he didn’t know was that Belove was not asleep. The Earth Pony lay to one side, eyes open and darting through the dark.

‘Derky’s right.’ He thought to himself. ‘I’m some kind of wretch.’

Subconsciously, his hoof found its way into his saddlebag, wrapped around his most treasured item. His eyes, heavy from exhaustion, slowly fell to a chorus of crickets as he ran his hoof up and down the length of his medallion which he won all those years ago.

He allowed himself to fall carelessly into the deep black void; the sweet, comforting embrace of sleep.