A twig cracked somewhere in the distance. Belove jumped.

Was he scared? Not exactly. On edge, was a term he would prefer. It wasn’t fear that he felt in the pit of his stomach; it was, as much as he hated to admit it, sadness and regret.

Perhaps abandoning his friends and continuing solo wasn’t the greatest decision he had ever made. But still, like always, he was right and they were wrong. And he wasn’t going to spend a second longer in that traitor Starfire’s company than he had to.

The leaves of the high-rise oak trees rustled above him. His head instinctively snapped upwards, eyes wide and darting for the source. He told himself the wind. It had to be. It wasn’t as though anything was following him, was it?

In the Ponyville Guard, they were taught to always be on their guard and to expect the unexpected. And in a place like the Everfree Forest, so wild and untamed and untouched by modern civilisation, so mysterious and dark and unknown, there was a fair chance that something unexpected right around the corner. Usually waiting to eat you. So the earth pony had every reason to be on his guard and, dare he say, ‘jumpy.’

In hindsight, he admitted that he had acted on his raw emotion rather than using his head. After all, he had no map, no supplies and no idea where he was going. He had stormed off out of that cave in such a rush that he didn’t even look to see which path he had taken, which proved to be more than a small error when he turned back only to find he could no longer see the way he came. Foolish, he knew that much, but he decided it was best not to dwell on such matters. The way he saw it, without the ‘extra baggage’ he could actually make some progress now and, with copious amounts of luck, stumble his way across Nightmare Moon. Even better would be finding the cowardly thief that stole his saddlebags, whoever or whatever they may be.

In his mind, Belove had no real plan of action should he come across Nightmare Moon, or any threat for that matter. Still, he could cross that bridge when he came to it. After all, he had military training and could handle himself in a fight, even if he had exaggerated his experience in the field somewhat, to the point where he believed his own nonsense. At least he was confident in his own abilities, however fabricated they might be.

Another bush shook, softly, but enough to snatch him away from his thoughts. He certainly hoped that the Manticore wasn’t hiding in there like last time. He’d had just about enough of that guy. And cockatrices. Now that he thought of it, he’d faced more hideous monsters in the past 24 hours or so than he had previously in his life. The grand total still stood at two, but it was two more than he would have liked. The guards-pony cautiously approached the bush and, with a shaking hoof, pushed the thick leaves apart. Luckily for him, there was nothing. No Manticore, no cockatrice, not even a pesky squirrel this time.

There was something that caught his eye, however. Although the other side of the hedge was dark and visibility was poor, he could just about make out a small, narrow dirt path, even more untrodden than the one he was traversing. It ran between through a gap in the line of old, gnarled trees, almost as if it were crying out to be noticed. However, it wasn’t the forgotten forest path that caught his eye (after all, an old and mysterious woodland like this was bound to have several hidden passages), rather it was what he found in the dirt.

Belove squeezed his way through the hole in the hedge and, after dislodging a stray twig from his ear hole, inspected the path. His eyes lit up in the darkness, like the stars in the night sky, when he recognised the imprints.

6 pairs of hoof-prints were burrowed into the soil. They looked recent. Very recent. Belove’s heart skipped a beat. ‘They’re far too light to be a stallion’s prints.’ He thought with glee. ‘And just like that, I’m back on the right track.’

The Earth Pony galloped off down the path post haste, his ultimate goal of rescuing the girls, destroying the bad guy, saving the world and flipping the hoof to not only Icarus, but his idiot friends drawing ever closer. He was so close he could almost reach out and touch it.

He didn’t see the shadowy figure perched on the highest branch of the tallest tree.

It studied him for a moment, almost inquisitively, and then blended back into the darkness from whence it came.

The two Pegasi had been hovering along the forest floor for some time now. The choice of abandoning their wingless friends was a regrettable one but necessary and honestly, Weatherstorm was glad to see the back of them. Now he could focus on saving his love in half the time, and Derky was going to help him, whether he was willing or not.

His idea was that, without any ‘Earth-bounds’ as Unicorns and Earth Ponies were secretly nicknamed by some of the Pegasi of Equestria slowing them down, both he and Derky could utilise their wing power which was far faster than merely walking. Flying from one side of the Everfree to the other would take them no more than a day (night) at most, and that wasn’t even at full speed. Sure, neither of them were the strongest of flyers, but it was a far cry from spending days on end traversing the same old roads, most of which would likely lead to where they didn’t want to be. All they needed was the open sky and a good view of the ground below.

However, there was one fatal flaw in Weatherstorm’s grand design, and it was one he could kick himself in the teeth for.

Whilst Weatherstorm was hoping to rise to a fair altitude (no higher than cloud level) as this would, although not exactly pinpoint the royal castle ruins, surely give an indication of some forest clearings, his wish was to remain unfulfilled. In order to get to his desired altitude would require clear, open skies above and all that he could see above him was leaves. Nothing but leaves. The tree canopy was far too thick and far too dense to even contemplate flying directly up and through, or at least it was if he valued his bones un-shattered. So, until he could find a suitable opening in the canopy, it looked like they were both earthbound.

Normally, Weatherstorm would not have been too put off by such a prospect. Sure, the forest floor was both unbelievably dirty and a strain on his hooves but that was why he had taken to hovering, which was still slightly faster than his average walking speed. Sure, the forest was full of unimaginable horrors like Timberwolves and Manticores that would like nothing better than to have him with a nice side of Carottes Étuvées au Beurre but the forest more than made up for this mild peril with its divine and vast display of natural flora, which captivated the young journalist’s heart and soul to no end. No, his greatest hindrance was one he had inadvertently created.

Derkington Robert-Alexander Bellray.

The blank-flanked Pegasus had literally not shut his mouth from the moment they had left the cave and, by now, Weatherstorm was wishing that he’d just pulled a Belove and continued on alone.

Derky and Weatherstorm had been good friends for many years. And in that time, it would be common speculation that the latter would have gotten used to the... eccentricity of the former but alas, this was not the case.

“So, which do you think came first? The cockatrice or the egg?” He asked, as though it were a question that was in desperate need of answering.

Weatherstorm sighed, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his hoof. The questions, theories, and general nonsense had ceased to stop or even slow down for about 2 hours now. Had it been 2 hours? It could’ve only been half an hour since he’d left, but to him, it felt like a week. At least. Either he was going to find a nice canopy opening in the next five minutes, or there would be undesirable consciences, none of which would be beneficial for Derky’s health.

Of all his stolen possessions: his quills and paper, his books, his food, his hoof-sanitizer and heck, even the poem he had been writing for Miss Rarity, he missed his migraine pills the most at that moment. Even from early childhood, Weatherstorm had suffered from frequent headaches of substantial magnitude. The doctors diagnosed it as severe stress. In a way, that was true. Unlike most foals his age, Weatherstorm was easily stressed out but then again, he had to be with a family like his. He seemed to be the only one who worried about anything, for that matter. These headaches were only amplified as soon as he met Derky in school. Stupidity was a strong word, but probably an accurate one, for what drove Derky’s actions which ultimately ended in disaster and a sore head from worry. And, of course...

“Because I think I’ll call my cockatrice Eggbert.” Derky tore Weatherstorm away from his thoughts. “Or Beaky.” He smiled. “Huh. Beaky. Which one do you think sounds better, Weatherstorm?”

Weatherstorm spun around mid-glide. “I DON’T...” He snapped, taking a moment to compose himself. Even his own voice was making his head throb. He lowered his tone to a whisper. “I don’t care all that much, Derky. And for the last time, you are not keeping that vile creature from the darkest depths of the forest as a pet.”

Derky snorted, which was a fairly unflattering noise. “Well... I guess we'll see...” he whispered under his breath.

As if having Derky chattering constant insanities into his ear was bad enough, he was also practically blind. What sort of thief would steal a pony’s glasses, of all things? Well, the sort of thief that didn’t want his victims to give chase. At least Derky could be his eyes, if only he would shut up for...

“Flappy.” Derky beamed. “I’ll name him Flappy.”

Weatherstorm’s face screwed up in anger. He just couldn’t take it anymore. “Derky,” he hissed, gritting his teeth. Without his glasses rectifying his vision, everything was distorted and blurry and disproportioned and giving him such a migraine. “If you simply must bother me with idle talk every second, can’t you at least talk about something a little more relevant, please?”

Derky nodded, then zipped his mouth shut. Weatherstorm sighed in relief. They flew in silence for around 20 seconds.

“If Nightmare Moon destroys us, do you think she’ll do it quick and easily or slow and painfully? It would be nice if she didn't make a big thing of it. I've never been comfortable in the spotlight.”

Weatherstorm threw up his hooves in protest. If it wasn’t Cananor pestering him, it was Derky. “Derky, my dear, can you PLEASE think of something else? Why don’t you just... I don’t know, look at the scenery?” The journalist was really clutching at straws. He knew that Derky wasn’t exactly the most observant fellow, nor was he the sort to find nature particularly captivating or moving. He did, however, have a soft spot for strange animals. “Why don’t you take a look at some of the flora, Derky?” Weatherstorm sang as he drifted over to the edge of the path, cupping a group of beautiful silky bluebells in his hooves. They chimed along to his melodic voice.

“Nah, I’m good.” Derky shrugged. “I don’t really get flowers.”

Weatherstorm flittered over to the other side of the path, where a colony of large, violet sunflower like plants swayed gently in the breeze, and inhaled deeply. He had never seen such a species of plant before, but they gave off the most the most divine fragrance. The forest could be outstandingly beautiful when it wanted to be so. In a way, it saddened him that so few others would dare venture the forest, as they were certainly missing out on some wonderful and picturesque plantlife. “Ah, but Derky!” Weatherstorm cooed, the flowers leaning toward him on slender stalks as though drawn to his voice. “Don’t you find these plants simply amazing?”

Derky shook his head. “You know what’s cool? Dragons.” He pointed a hoof towards his companion. “Can we go look for a dragon?”

“Derky, you can play with the baby dragon that works at the library when we get back.” Like a bee to nectar, Weatherstorm was drawn to the next batch of flowers, even more mysterious than the last. He inhaled again, savouring the moment as the sweet scent floated up his nose. His muzzle twitched as the pinkish petals tickled his lips.

He smiled, and then fluttered over to some delicate looking roses which hummed in the night, like a siren’s call. One stood out in particular, bigger than the rest, unlike any rose he had seen before. White speckles gleamed out from the darkness like jewels amongst the soothing crimson of the petals, giving the impression of a giant juicy strawberry. He reached down and gently stroked the enclosed bud. It seemed to shiver to his touch. “By Celestia, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such a beautiful flower in all of my days.” He stroked it again. Once more it reacted, sending little electric vibrations down his hoof. “Rarity shall love it, no doubt.” He hugged both hooves around the plant and tugged. It stayed put. He tugged again. It was defiant to move. He tried again, to no success. Finally, Weatherstorm took a step back and wiped his brow, glistening with effort.

“You shouldn’t pick the plants.” Derky huffed. “I heard the guardians of the forest will put a curse on you.”

Weatherstorm placed a hoof on his friend’s shoulder and smiled sweetly. “Derky, my good pal, I say this as a friend: sometimes you talk the largest degree of nonsense. Now, be a dear and help me with this stubborn fellow, would you? Your generosity will be repaid tenfold.”

“Oh no. Not for a MILLION cockatrice. I don’t want no bad juju.”

“Fine.” Weatherstorm stormed off and narrowed his eyes. “I’ll show this flower who is the boss around here.” He reverted back to his previous position, hooves clamped around the plant. This time he was going to put his back into it.

No sooner had he touched it than the plant began to shudder and shake, gently at first but growing more violent by the second. Then the plant began to rise up, ever so slowly, like a charmed snake under the control of some majestic flute. Its long, thorny stalk extended, twisting and churning and pushing the bud skyward as though yearning to reach for some invisible sun. It stopped when it reached to over a good head and shoulders above Weatherstorm, who still had his hoof pressed firmly against the unopened petals. “Well,” he muttered in amazement. “This is certainly odd.”

Next came a sickening, squelching sound as the petals uncurled, oozing thick, sticky sap from within. Slowly, slowly, slowly the petals unfurled like a theatre curtain, and therein stood the main spectacle. Instead of a stamen, in its place was a long red tongue, flapping to and fro wildly. Salvia dripped from its swollen uvula and seeped from its agape mouth. Rows upon rows of spiky teeth ran along the inside of the petal leaves, slimy and wet with gloopy sap. Weatherstorm wasn’t exactly sure how to react to such an occurrence. His mind was a blank and he merely stood frozen, hoof still dangling temptingly close to the thing’s ‘mouth.’

He finally mustered up the courage to speak to the swaying monstrosity. “Hello there.” He greeted the thing as though he were talking to another pony in the street. The eyeless plant-beast snapped to attention at the sound of his voice. “I’m ever so sorry to bother you or wake you up or whatever I might have done. You see, I wasn’t quite aware that you were alive, per say. But worry not, I shan’t uproot you, for I no longer think that Miss Rarity of the Carousel Boutique shall want you in a vase in her bedroom. It’s not that you are, UGLY, for that is such a strong word. We’re all beautiful in our own way. Rather, it’s that you’re an ACQUIRED taste...”

It ate his hoof.

The not-so-bespectacled Pegasus mustn’t have been an acquired taste, because the plant clamped down on his outstretched hoof and slurped half his leg into its mouth.

Weatherstorm’s eyes widened in horror and shock. “Ooohh...” He groaned as he felt rows of jagged fangs brush over his hoof fur. The plant smiled, or at least he thought it was smiling. It should have been far easier to tell on a lifeform that was all mouth.

“How... how dare you?” Weatherstorm cried in utter disgust. “How dare you eat my hoof! You, sir, should be ashamed of yourself. Now unhand me this instant, you fiend!”

The plant sucked his whole leg in. Weatherstorm screamed as he felt thick, jelly like liquids ran down his leg. “Come on now!” He cried again, more meekly this time. “Can’t we just let bygones be bygones?”

No response, not that he was expecting one.

“Derky!” The captured Weatherstorm swivelled his body around to his idle comrade. “Derky, please help, would you?”

Derky stood up, face blank. “What’s wrong, there?”

“I’M BEING EATEN BY A PLANT. WHAT DO YOU THINK IS WRONG?”

Derky was silent for a moment, before saying, “It's just that I found a worm. Want to see it?”

Right at that moment, with only Derkington for aid, Weatherstorm contemplated just throwing himself into the beast headfirst just to speed along the process. Is this how he was to meet his demise? Death by plant? He’d never imagined that. Sometimes life really throws a curveball at you.

“No!” Weatherstorm stammered in disbelief. “No, I don’t want to look at your worm! I can’t help but think there are more pressing matters here and BY STARSWIRL’S BEARD, IS THAT A SNAKE?”

A snake it was, not that Derky recognised it as being one. “I don’t think so. There's no stripes.” The brown coated Pegasus mumbled, staring down at the slithering cobra entangled around his hoof.

“DERKY, IT’S CLEARLY A SNAKE! GET RID OF IT AND HELP ME!”

Of course, Derky threw the snake at the plant-monster. The snake hit the half plant, half beast with a wet smack, sliding down its featureless face with a sound akin to a squeegee rubbing against a soapy window pane. It did nothing to better the monster’s mood. The snake gave a low, cold blooded warning hiss before slipping up a tree and into the high branches above.

Weatherstorm looked back in utter amazement. “WHAT IS YOUR OBSESSION WITH THROWING SNAKES AT DANGEROUS ANIMALS?”

Derky shrugged. And then Weatherstorm felt the tight grip on his foreleg loosening, and suddenly he was free. In those few short seconds, it was impossible for him to tell what exactly had happened, but he was fairly sure that he’d seen several small, dark objects, like acorns, fall from the highest branch of the overhanging tree and drop onto the top of the plant’s head with a series of dull plops. Naturally, he thanked the snake, for without its efforts, those pine needles or acorns or whatever they might have been would likely not have fallen.

“Thank you, sir snake!” He called up the tree trunk. “I shan’t forget your valiant act and should we cross paths again, I’ll repay my debt. You have my word as a gentlecolt on that!”

“I think the snake was aiming those at your head.”

“Well then, sir snake can go to Tartarus for all I care. And as for you,” Weatherstorm pouted to the still dazed venus pony trap. “You are a vile and disgusting creature, and I lied: you are ugly, so there. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before trying to eat somepony such as I.”

The plant-monster snapped at him once more and blew his tongue in a loud raspberry, showering the Pegasus in spittle.

The Pegasus returned the gesture. “I was wrong, Derky. The plant life here is absolutely horrid.”

As they trotted off, Weatherstorm felt a twinge of pain rush up his leg like a venomous bite. It seemed as though the venus pony trap had twisted it, the brute. A shame, and when it was just recovering after not one but two near fractures from both Belove and Rarity’s father. No matter. That’s why he was born with wings, after all.

The recent near death experience certainly had not put a damper on Derky’s mood, however, who remained as chatty as ever as they glided effortlessly along the ground. “Why do you think they call them VENUS pony traps, Weatherstorm? Why not Mars pony traps? They say that mares are from Venus and stallions from Mars. Does that mean all venus pony traps are female? Aren’t plants both...”

“Derky, please.” Weatherstorm silenced him. “I’m not sure if I’ve told you, but I have quite the headache.”

“We need to stop again?”

Starfire silently sighed and shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, we don’t have to, but we’ve been walking for a while. I thought your hooves were getting sore. Mine certainly are.”

“But didn’t we stop an hour ago?” Cananor groaned in protest, kicking at a random cluster of colourful wildflowers which daftly dodged the attack with aid from the gentle billowing breeze. They had, indeed, stopped for a quick rest one hour prior to this conversation. And one hour before that. In total, they had stopped three times since they’d left the cave, and each ‘little rest’ as Starfire called them were getting longer and longer. Although the forest paths were fairly uneven, rocky and generally tiring on the hooves and therefore he appreciated the rest, Cananor couldn’t shake the feeling that they were wasting valuable time. In the recent turn of events, time was no longer a commodity they could spare.

He heard Phoenix’s voice float out from the deepest depths of his imagination. “A GRIFFON WITHOUT PATIENCE IS LIKE A DEFENDANT WITHOUT A GOOD ATTORNEY: DONE FOR!” The line from Issue #322 wasn’t the most philosophical of his quotes, but it was darned effective and put the point across nicely.

“A GRIFFON WITHOUT PATIENCE IS...”

“I heard you, Phoenix.” Cananor called up to the spectral figure which lay lazily along the length of a low branch, picking at his teeth with his clawed hand. He just smiled in return. Cananor reluctantly agreed to take a quick breather. “Five minutes won’t hurt, I guess.”

“This looks like a nice spot,” Starfire wearily fell to the ground with a sigh of relief. It felt good to rest his hooves. Cananor did likewise, although a little more restlessly than his companion, and was able to get a good look at the surrounding area.

It was, as Starfire had said, a nice spot. Nature encircled them, and not the grizzly sort of nature that wanted to tear their heads off in a ghastly manner. This was proper nature, where birds glided breathlessly through the open canopy and into the starry sky like soaring spirits, dancing and diving magnificently in the full glare of the moon, big and full and wonderfully bright. The trees, unlike so many others they had seen in the darkest depths of the forest, were green and bristling with life, their thick mahogany trunks groaning softly, delicately as the wind rushed through their pores, whispering sweet lullabies. Butterflies hovered close to the ground, stroking the blades of fresh, sweet grass with their speckled wings. Ladybirds, little baby tomatoes with wings, trekked up and down the gently sighing flowers with monumental effort, tiny strained breaths billowing from tired mouths. Grasshoppers and crickets chirped out a melody into the darkness, as though welcoming the strange, new, equine visitors with a royal fanfare. An owl emerged from some dark crevice of a tree, shook itself awake with a ruffle of feathers, and began its nightly rounds. Cananor was surprised by the variety of life in the forest; he’d always imagined, when he had looked out from his bedroom window as a foal to the forest which loomed like a dark shadow in the far distance, that it was a scary and forbidden place, populated by untold horrors, malevolent creatures from times long lost, and other things which lurked under the bed. And whilst that had proven on more than one occasion to be true, here he was, soaking in some of the most astounding scenery he had ever laid eyes on.

‘Meh.’ Cananor shrugged off the beauty. He wasn’t all that interested in nature when it came right down to it.

Starfire, however, was spellbound by it all. The birds and the bees, the squirrels and trees, even down to the lowliest insect, it was all fascinating experience. The forest was a mystical, magical place and the wealth of both wild and flora life overwhelmed him. Ecosystems in action. A stark contrast to the earlier, less vibrant regions of the forest indeed.

A cluster of wildflowers near the rim of their clearing invited the student over. They were unlike any floral life he had seen in any book before. Rich Azure blue in colour, they glowed in the blackness like the warm glow of a glowbug, and beckoned him near. The plants had large, waxy leaves with several delicate petals, each bulb sporting a few stamen. Dark cobalt veins ran across the length of the leaves and continued down the stalk. They hummed quietly, all in harmony with another, as Starfire bend down and took a sniff. They were very pungent, and had an earthy like aroma. He took another sniff. The plants hummed back in unison.

Satisfied by his little pocket of nature, Starfire gently lowered himself down amongst the foliage, taking care not to flatten any of the strange species of plant, and closed his eyes, forelegs folded.

To the other unicorn spectating, this was not an uncommon. Every time they stopped, Starfire would go through the same procedure; he’d find a nice, quiet spot amongst the flowers, fold his hooves, close his eyes and remain quiet for the remainder of the rest. Quite frankly, it was beginning to irritate the lawyer, and...

“OI!” A walnut conked him on the bonce. Its thrower stood atop a high branch, looking down, another projectile clasped firmly in his talon. “PATIENCE! ATTORNEYS! DONE FOR!”

“I know!” Cananor hissed back. “Stop hitting me with things!”

“THESE ARE IMAGINARY-WALNUTS! I CAN'T TOUCH CORPOREAL ITEMS, ANYWAY! STOP BEING SO IMPATIENT! YOU CAN’T RUSH A CASE!”

Cananor sat down beside the silent meditater. Starfire’s eyes flittered open as he felt the flowers next to him give way under Cananor’s weight. “Be careful not to crush them,” The student teacher warned him, still striking the same pose but for one open eye. “I’ve never seen plants like these before, and they might be rare. I’d quite like to gather a few for... research.”

Cananor jumped to his hooves. Several of the flowers had already been pressed by the might of his flank. “You weren’t looking to start a pressed flower collection, were you?”

Starfire gave a long, heavy sigh of disdain. The flowers swayed and bent under the strain of his weighty breath. He rolled his gentle eyes and threw back his cheery blond mane. “I was going to study them, but no matter. Science be darned.” With that, he closed his eyes and went back to his silent meditation. Either he was humming, or the plants were. Maybe they were all humming. Cananor almost felt inclined to hum a tune along with them.

“What, uh...” He stumbled and scratched the back of his mane in embarrassment. “Whatcha’ doing, anyway?”

Starfire’s eyelids remained locked together. He didn’t budge. “I’m meditating.” He whispered back to disturb as little of the wildlife as possible. He knew they were likely confused and disorganised by the lack of sun; their presence wasn’t going to make them feel any more secure.

“I can see that.” It was a fairly obvious answer to a fairly broad question. “Any reason why, or...”

Starfire, forelegs folded and hind legs crossed, lowered his horn to the ground and inhaled sharply, holding it for a moment, then released it slowly and deliberately. He repeated the action before answering. “I’m trying to track Nightmare Moon’s magic.”

Cananor scoffed and picked one of the pressed plants. A light blue sap lactated from the severed stem, and the glowing slowly faded away into the breeze. “You’ve already tried that one before, remember?”

“No, seriously.” Starfire’s chest rose, then fell, slowly and rhythmically. “Tracing magic is a hard spell, but not impossible. That said, few unicorns can pull it off.”

Cananor raised an eyebrow, muzzle buried deep in the dark blue flower’s stamen. “Can you?”

“Well, I’ve briefly read about it, but...” Another sharp inhalation of oxygen, then another slow release of carbon dioxide, whistled through puckered lips. “But no, I’ve never attempted such a spell. Never wanted to. Not worth the risk. As I said, it’s difficult to master. Even the great magicians of old probably had some difficulty performing it correctly.”

“And what,” Cananor laughed, “You’ll just pull it off no problemo?”

Starfire smiled and held his breath for a moment. “Wishful thinking. Tell me...” He turned to Cananor, eyes still closed. “You can feel the magic of this forest, can’t you? That little tingle in your horn; never a distraction but always there?”

Cananor’s hoof went straight to his horn. He rubbed it tenderly. “I...I guess. I didn’t really pay much attention to it.”

“Well,” continued Starfire. “The forest has its own aura, its own ‘feel’ if you will. However, I can tell, as you surely can, that the natural feel of the forest has become unbalanced as of late. Nightmare Moon has to be the cause of the fluctuation. By channeling the life energies of the plant life here, I can tune into the forest’s natural energies and pinpoint any unrecognised magical sources, which should lead us to Nightmare Moon herself. Not only that, but as you know, Pegasi do give off a certain amount of passive magical energy which allows them to walk on clouds. Although the signal will be weak at best, I may just be able to locate Derky and Weatherstorm. Maybe. As I said though, it’s pretty wishful thinking. And it still won’t help us find Belove.”

Cananor clasped a hoof on Starfire’s back. “Hey, it’s a start. So, is this why we’ve been stopping every hour?”

“I like to take advantage of the rarer plant life when I come across them. The less common the plant and the closer I am to them, the more of a natural frequency I can pick up.” His horn sparked a little. He twinged. “These little beauties are really packing a magical punch, I’ll tell you that.” He went back to his meditation and left Cananor in silence.

Cananor took the hint. He stayed silent and left Starfire to concentrate on his spell.

For all of 30 seconds.

To be fair, it wasn’t his fault. Our heroic jokester was the restless sort, and even though he’d worked in one of the most mundane jobs in equine history for quite some time now, it did nothing to mellow his attitude. In fact, quite the opposite; if anything, it helped his ‘free spirit’ along, like an elastic band slowly being wound up and wound up until it releases in a quick flourish of bruised eyelids. Unless he was reading one of his beloved comics, the arts of staying perfectly still and perfectly quiet were not his forte.

He tried counting the flowers. He tried counting the bees in the flowers. He tried counting the stripes on the bees in the flowers. He tried counting the stars. He tired of counting the stars. Lastly, he tried conversing with Starfire.

“So, um...” He quickly searched his vast library of a brain for something appropriate to say. “Did I ever tell you the one about the Parasprite that walked into a restaurant and ordered a menu?”

Starfire said nothing.

"The Parasprite said, ‘I’ll have everything on the menu. And the menu.’”

Starfire said nothing.

“The waiter said, ‘I’m sorry sir, but we don’t feed the Parasprites!’”

Cananor coughed and trailed off. “I guess you’ve heard that one before, huh?”

The lawyer went back to his busy boredom. He listened to the owls hoot in the night. He called out a name. They couldn’t hear him correctly. He called again. They asked once more. He grew bored and conversed with Starfire.

“You know,” he sighed, twiddling his hooves and laying flat on his back, looking up at the starry sky above. “I didn’t tell you how I got my cutie mark, did I?”

Starfire raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“I said I would tell you on the night.” He waved his hoof across the sky, parting the stars and giving himself plenty of room to work. All the world was his stage, and he was the centre piece. “Well, tonight’s the night.”

Starfire mumbled something along the lines of, ‘It’s always night.’

He was shushed with a raspy whistle and a hoof on the lips. “You need to listen once in a while, Starfire. I’m beginning my story.”

As you may or may not know, my father is the captain of the Ponyville Guard and even back then, we didn’t get on all that well. Let’s just say that our... interests clashed.

The little unicorn tenderly took hold of his father’s hoof as they skipped merrily through the bronze leaves, fluttering through the crisp autumn morning air. The park was bustling with ponies, adult strangers who knew young Cananor, yet not vice versa. He hid behind his father’s legs when they approached. Occasionally they would stop and talk with his father, with a “Hello there, Captain Brigade! Pleasant morning, is it not?” His father would always smile cheerily, and return the gesture, but never for too long, for time in his line of work, recreational time, was scarce and he wished to spend as much of it as possible with his son.

Cananor enjoyed going to the park with his father. There they frolicked for quite some time, kicking up bushes of litter that spread over the dewy grass, and played tag and hide-and-go seek among the golden oak trees, but dared not venture too far. He knew that, no matter how well he hid, his father would always find him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Exhausted, laughing, they fell to the park floor together. Captain Blue Brigade, smile glowing with love and affection, removed his helmet and allowed his greying mane to flow freely behind him. He lowered the bronze helmet onto his son’s head, slowly and carefully, and then took a step back to admire his little solder. Cananor sat amongst the fallen leaves, helmet covering the most of his face, but underneath it all, he was smiling.

He heard his father laugh. “You’ll grow into it.” The helmet was adjusted, giving the young colt enough room to see, and then he was hoisted onto his father’s shoulders, where he could see all over Ponyville, and beyond.

“All this,” his father told him, “I give you the whole wide world. All of Equestria, son. All the trees in the forests, all the water in the sea, all the clouds in the sky, all the snow on the mountains and sand in the deserts, and all living things that inhabit them all. That is how much I love you.”

Cananor looked out at the vast expanses of the universe, the unending love of his father. He loved him back just as much.

Blue Brigade’s face turned solemn. He sighed, watching Celestia’s shimmering sun dip below the horizon, as though waving goodbye. The sky turned a beautiful rich orange. “Someday,” he whispered to his foal, gently. “Someday, I’ll be gone, and it’ll be up to you to help the good ponies of Ponyville, just like me. And my father, and his father before him.”

Cananor cuddled in close to his father’s furred form, safe and secure in loving hooves. “You won’t ever be gone, will you, daddy?”

And Blue Brigade’s heart melted. A tear rolled down his cheek as he watched his son, his own flesh and blood, gripping to him tightly like no force in this world could tear them apart. “No, son.” He muttered after the longest time. “I won’t leave you.”

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay."

They sat there together, as one, and watched the sun disappear.

“It sounds like you and your father were actually pretty close.”

Starfire’s statement caught Cananor off guard. “Whoa, I... I didn’t really think you were actually listening to me.”

The student continued to sit perfectly still, eyes closed, hooves folded, facing forwards. Every now and then his horn sparked, just a little, but brighter every time it did so. “I am. A bit.” He added with a straight faced smirk. “You said that you didn’t really get on with your father. I can tell otherwise.”

Cananor snorted and pushed himself upright, scattering the butterflies that had landed on the vibrating blur plants beside him. “And what gave you that impression?”

“Well, I’m no psychologist, but probably the fact that you spent the last ten minutes talking about your day out with your dad at the park.”

The lawyer’s face dropped. “I was saying that bit out loud?”

Starfire shuddered a little as he felt a surge of magic pass through him, for the briefest moment, then faded back to nothingness. He controlled his breathing once more. “So, what happened? Between you and your father?”

Cananor lay back down and stared back up at the night sky. The moon ushered his story along, as though impatient to reach the end. “Well, I was pretty young and pretty dumb back then. We just drifted apart as I grew older, is all. Like I said, we had different plans for my future. He wanted me to carry the torch as captain of the Ponyville guard, whereas I found my true calling the day I got my cutie mark...”

It was a pretty average day at school. I was trying my hoof at comedy, because I was still pretty indecisive as to what I wanted to when I was older. I was the type of foal that was impatient waiting for my cutie mark, you know, so I literally tried everything and anything I could in hopes I would be good at it. In short, it usually ended in disaster.

I know a few foals like that.

Anyway, I was out in the playground, attracting a bit of a crowd, when Cheerilee...

Wait, Cheerilee worked at the same school all those years ago?

Yeah, as a student teacher, the same thing you’re working as now. You should have seen her mane...

“...So I said, ‘I think I’ll have the mane course!’” The unicorn beamed, throwing out his hooves to emphasise the punchline.

He waited for the uproars laughter. And waited.

It wasn’t just delayed. It was non-existent.

“Get it? Mane as in hair?” He desperately tugged at his own aqua green mane. “Mane as in...”

The young spectators were silent.

Cananor gulped and felt his mouth dry up. He loosened an invisible collar. ‘Wow. Tough crowd. I guess I should strike comedian off of the list.’

Miss Cheerilee’s voice snapped all pupils to attention. “Attention, my little ponies!” She gleamed through a mouth full of sparkling braces. They gave the magenta Earth Pony a slight lisp, making it hard for her to properly pronounce ‘r’ and ‘s’ without spraying saliva in whatever direction she happened to be facing. Despite this slight hindrance, the student teacher was cheery without fail, and very popular with her temporary class. They looked up to her, and called her ‘Miss.’ She’d never been called ‘Miss’ before, but she could certainly get used to it. “I would like to introduce a new pupil that moved here yesterday from Cloudsdale... please give a warm, Ponyville welcome to Derkington!”

She pointed at empty air. Somepony near the back of the crowd coughed.

Then slowly, surely, a head began to creep its way out from behind Cheerilee’s leg warmers. A thick tuft of curly copper-ginger hair, pierced by two light brown ears. Then a matching coloured muzzle. Two full, lime green eyes. Then the newcomer’s body followed suit. It was a colt, a Pegasus, who wavered nervously from side to side, blushing. He crossed one foreleg and smiled, unsure of what to say to his new classmates in this new, alien environment.

There was a smattering of expressionless introductions, unenthusiastic mumbles that trailed incoherently into heavy sighs.

Somepony near the front of the crowd coughed.

Cheerilee’s metallic smile didn’t fade. She nodded a few times, as though responding to some question nopony asked.

“Good!” The trainee clopped her hooves together and ushered the shivering colt off to the gathering crowd with youthful optimism. “Make friends, and have fun!” Then she galloped back inside the school building, eager to fulfil whatever task her mentor should set her next.

Young Derkington cleared his throat. He wasn’t at all comfortable being in the limelight, so many eyes locked in his direction. He could feel their glares burn into his skin, silently judging him. First impressions were everything, and even though he wanted to try his best to start a new life, a better life, he couldn’t block out the memories of Cloudsdale: mocking laughter, cruel jokes, hurtful comments. He mustered up a morsel of courage, unfurled his wings, and spoke.

“Hi. My...” His voice cracked. He coughed again, and then whispered, “My name is Derky.”

When I looked down at that on-edge, shivering mess below me, I felt pity, and hadn’t the faintest idea why. Perhaps it was because I knew what was going to happen next. Maybe we all did.

Any who didn’t move out of his way were pushed to the dirt, unable to stand up to the pure brutish might of his pet. Most squeaked and jumped backwards, giving them both a wide birth. Thunder Charger and his lackey Barry Brick were no force to be reckoned with.

Derky recognised them as the school bullies straight away. He’d dealt with their kind before, back in Cloudsdale, and wished he had seen the back of them. But the sad fact of the matter was that foals can be cruel, and no matter where in Equestria you went, there were always those who preyed on the weak, the disabled, the different, the downtrodden.

“Well, look at this!” The slender Pegasus colt sneered. His voice was high and croaky, but seeping malevolence and hatred. “Fresh meat!” The second of the two challengers snickered, his voice low and husky and most unlike that of his friend’s. It was blatantly obvious that he wasn’t exactly the mastermind of the two, which was quite the achievement to give off such an impression as he had yet to actually say a word.

They took their time inspecting the newest addition to the class, sizing him up. Derky’s face faded into a dark crimson as he turned his head away, trying to avoid the gaze of the other Pegasus colt. Thunder Charger first investigated the confines of his mane, running his hoof through the straggly orange threads. “Huh. Nice mane.” His comment spat sarcasm like a snake’s venom. Then he tugged Derky’s wing up, examined the joints and ruffled through the feathers, then dropped it to the ground in disgust. “You call those wings?” The white Pegasus jeered, flexing his own appendages which rippled with muscles. “These are wings!” He made sure to run his wings under Derky’s chin, snapping them mere inches from his face. He laughed every time the weakling jumped, until something else caught his eye. Slowly, an evil smirk grew, peeling the corners of his mouth into a wide, unwelcoming grin.

“The new kid’s a blank flank!”

If a hole had opened in the ground at that moment, Derky would gladly have crawled into the deep chasms of the underworld and closed the earth back up behind him. His one weakness, the one great bane of his existence, was his cutie mark, or lack thereof. He knew he was still young, and that finding a special talent was something that took time, but he’d grown self conscious over how long it was taking him to find his. Back in Cloudsdale, everypony in his class had a cutie mark, but for his only friend Weatherstorm , and it left the poor Pegasus devastated. With wishful thinking, he could only hope that there was somepony, anypony else in Ponyville without a cutie mark, but even by taking a quick glance at the audience he could see that his hopes were in vain.

Thunder Charger pressed his muzzle right against Derky’s own. The blank flanked Pegasus tried to back away, but found his path blocked by a Barry Brick wall. “You’re an ugly little ginger blank flank.” The school bully shot him the sort of gleaming smile a Manticore gives its prey in their last seconds of life. “You’re nothing.” With that, his hoof shot out and caught the defenceless newcomer in the ribs. Helpless, he tumbled to the cold hard tarmac, trembling in fear. There he lay, curled in a shivering ball on the chalky hopscotch grid, with the beastly duo looming above him, chanting and jeering.

“Blank flank! Blank flank!” They teased, stringing the insults into a melodically mocking verse.

Now, as you can imagine, I wasn’t going to let this stand.

Oh, of course.

The very sight made Cananor’s blood boil and all he saw was red. Pure, scarlet red. Thunder and Barry had gone too far this time. Sure, he always knew they were complete jerks and sure, they would tease him for being a blank flank himself but seeing it performed out like a sick play on another, one so helpless, really set the perspective for the unicorn. He made the split second decision to speak out against them before his mind could object.

“Leave him alone!”

The laughing stopped, the chanting ceased, and the playground grew silent. Had tumbleweed been common in those parts, it probably would have made a quick cameo appearance. Had the town clock been nearby, it would have chimed twelve, whatever the actual time may have been. The audience grew deathly pale as rows of terrified eyes edged their way up to Cananor’s defiant form, still standing atop his makeshift stage constructed from an overturned orange box. They were in disbelief, shock, and perhaps a little bit of denial. Nopony talked to Thunder Charger like that. Nopony.

The white coated Pegasus went completely stiff as his muscles tensed, locked in surprise. Then he slowly, languidly turned to face the outspoken onlooker. His pale, sparkling green eyes, shimmering with heated rage, froze when they met Cananor’s. Neither party said a word for the longest time.

“What did you say?”

A fat droplet of sweat slithered its way down Cananor’s rapidly blushing cheek. With a sharp inhale, he puffed out his chest and repeated himself. “I said, leave him alone.”

Thunder’s eyebrows narrowed as he took one step towards his challenger. Then another. Barry Brick tilted his head from side to side menacingly, which sat rigid on his trunk of a neck. A low, guttural growl rose from the pit of his stomach like that of a guard dog. “Well, well, well.” Thunder Charger clapped his hooves down on the perfectly still grass. Even it seemed to be waiting in suspense. “Look at this! The blank flank here,” he pointed to Cananor, “Is sticking up for his own, blank flanked kind. Isn’t that sweet?” He laughed, but there was no humour evident in his toothy smile.

“Listen, just leave the new kid alone, alright?” Cananor instructed. He didn’t sound half as confident as he wanted to come across as.

Thunder chuckled. Barry laughed along with him, copying his every movement and matching his mocking sneer. “Or what?”

The Pegasus took another menacing step towards his prey. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll...” Cananor paused. What was he going to do? He was far from the strongest pony at school, and barely even registered as a threat to neither Thunder Charger nor Barry Brick. They were bigger than he was, stronger than he was, faster than he was and capable of beating him into an indistinguishable brown smudge plastered along the astroturf. “I’ll, uh...”

“Yes?” Thunder folded his hooves and glided past the unicorn, mere inches from knocking him off his elevated stage and onto the cold, hard ground below. “You’ll what?”

“I’ll...” All eyes were on him. He felt the sweat trickle down his forehead like a stream of regret. Why did he open his stupid mouth? Why couldn’t he just keep quiet? Desperately, he turned to the crowd below him and at Belove in particular with pleading, teary eyes. Perhaps he thought that his only fellow blank flanked foal in the class would help him in his time of need but alas, it was not the case. The red Earth Pony shied away, staring straight at the ground below him, slowly backing further and further from the rest of the audience with a silent whimper. It wasn’t exactly unexpected, after all; he was by far the shyest, most inward pony Cananor had ever met.

And then Cananor heard it. A faint whisper, blowing in the cheery summer’s breeze. Then louder, more recognisable.

Cananor momentarily ignored the circling Pegasus closing in around him. He momentarily ignored the threatening crack of Barry’s hooves. He focused on the crowd. Somepony was talking to him, he was sure of it. Whoever it was, they were calling his name.

Cananor... Cananor...

CANANOR!

The shout was loud enough to nearly topple him from his makeshift perch. It came from above him. Craning his neck skyward, he found a shadowy figure hovering in place amongst the bright and wispy cotton candy clouds. It wasn’t a pony, that much was clear. The shadow’s long, thin, tufty tail, the sleek eagle-like wings, the ferociously glinting claws gleaming in the afternoon sun... although he had never seen one in his life before, Cananor could tell straight away that the stranger was a griffon: a mystical half lion, half eagle hailing from a land far, far from Equestria. He couldn’t make out the creature’s face, entwined with shifting darkness.

“CANANOR!” The creature boomed in a voice so deep that it vibrated the box Cananor was standing on like a drum. “IT LOOKS LIKE YOU NEED A LITTLE HELP!”

Cananor was gobsmacked. How did it know his name? Why did nopony else react? Couldn’t they see him... it? And who was he?

“Wh...who are you?” Stammered the young colt, heart racing beyond belief.

The griffon laughed. “LISTEN, I’LL TELL YOU WHEN YOU’RE OLDER!”

“But how did...”

The shadow silenced him with a talon to the lips. “SHH! THEY CAN HEAR YOU, FOOL! NOW, SAY EXACTLY WHAT IS SAY AND YOU MIGHT GET THROUGH THIS!”

Cananor listened to the stranger, and he obeyed.

“I said,” Thunder bellowed, giving Cananor a sharp shove which sent him sprawling off his box and colliding with the tarmac below with a pained ‘oof!’, “Who are you talking to?”

Cananor straightened himself up, dusted himself off, and repeated the hushed whisperings drifting through his ear. “I was talking to you, Thunder Charger.” He replied with full confidence, not even a hint of fear eminent in his voice. “And I said, ‘You leave Derky alone, or I’ll have to serve you your flank on a plate.'”

Thunder’s blue eyes flashed pure red. “What did you say?”

“You heard me!” Cananor gave him a cocky, lopsided smile. Throwing back his mane, he laughed and puffed out his powerful chest, surging with justice.

He sensed Thunder’s attack before the Pegasus’s hoof had even left the soil. With his unparalleled speed, Cananor easily dodged the incoming hoof which sailed past his head, skimming the fur on his cheek. Even if Cananor had taken the punch, however, it would have had little effect. Thunder was pathetically weak and threw punches like a filly, whereas Cananor was strong and mighty and as rigid as steel. He merely laughed at Thunder’s attempt to make contact.

Sweat blinded Thunder as he stumbled backwards on unsteady hooves, panting in effort. “How...” he gasped, out of breath because of his generous body mass, “How can this be?”

Cananor snorted and shot a bolt of lighting into the sky, exploding like a firework which lit up the sky like a rainbow of awesome. “Don’t you get it? I’m the MIGHTY CANANOR!”

This was met by a monumental cheer from the crowd, who threw their hooves down in worship of Cananor, protector of the weak and defender of the school, he who dared challenge Thunder Charger. Thunder’s chest heaved in anger and embarrassment as he saw the whole of the school turn against him, HIM! He balled his hooves in rage, propelling himself forwards with a bloodcurdling shriek of ‘Hyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!’ in one last desperate effort to defeat his opponent.

Unfortunately for him, he just wasn’t fast enough.

His outstretched hind leg was daftly sidestepped with a yawn. Then there was a flash of light and a flourish of activity, and suddenly Thunder Charger found himself upside down and sprawled against the wall, tail swishing wildly across his utterly bewildered face. He was unable to even move his eyes, such was the magnitude of Cananor’s majestic attack. The all powerful unicorn blew the willowing smoke from the tip of his horn and then turned to face Barry Brick. “Your turn.” He smirked.

Barry did what any sensible pony would do in that situation and ran, stumbling occasionally as he galloped off into the distance, his frantic cries growing fainter and fainter until they ceased to exist. Then Cananor was hoisted onto the shoulders of his classmates, who paraded him around the school yard and chanted his name. “Cananor!” They cheered in joy, grateful for all he had done for them, freeing them from the tyrannical rule of the school bully, Thunder Charger. Belove looked on in amazement. He secretly wanted to be him, so loved by all, so smart and funny and superb in every possible way. Derky was so grateful that he had saved him from certain doom, he agreed to do Cananor’s homework all year. And Silver Lining, his secret childhood crush, fell instantly in love with him. He’d be a fool not to. The colt leaned in close, lips puckered. Cananor did likewise. He was such a good kisser...

This... didn’t happen, did it?

No, I was just making sure you hadn’t fallen asleep on me. Where was I?

You had said something to Thunder Charger, I believe.

Oh yeah.

“I said, you’d better leave him alone.” Cananor’s heart was pounding like a racehorse from both adrenaline and pure fear. Nopony had ever dared talk to Thunder Charger like this. He was making history.

Thunder Charger almost found the response comical. Sneering, he gave a shrill whistle and Barry Brick snapped to attention like an obedient pet, awaiting the order to pounce on his prey. The order was given.

And yet they both stopped, dead in their tracks. Cananor stood tall, defiant, a beacon of resistance against those who wished others nothing but harm. “Before you maul me, however, you should probably think about the consequences. Do you think Miss Sunrise won’t notice when I return after recess with two black eyes? You think my father won’t notice? What about my aunt, the mayor? Don’t think I can’t get you two into a LOT of trouble.”

The message hit home before the duo hit him. Thunder Charger seemed to weigh the positives against the negatives for a few moments before he signalled to Barry, and they both stomped off without another word. And then it was over. The crowds, eager to see a fight, wearily dispersed, muttering disappointed mumbles.

Cananor gave a long, exasperated sigh of relief when the bell sounded, signalling the end of recess and the continuation of classes. He’d been darned lucky, he knew, but it was all thanks to the unidentified stranger who had helped him out when he needed it most. Turning his attention back to the sky, he realised, to his surprise, that the griffon was no longer present. He didn’t even hear him leave, disappearing as mysteriously as he had appeared.

Derky came trotting over to him and snapped his mind onto more important affairs. “Thank you.” He barely managed to choke the words out, tears still glistening in his gentle green eyes. “I’ve... I’ve never had anypony stick up for me like that before.”

Cananor gave him a reassuring smile. He took the newcomer’s hoof and gave it a firm shake, a pact of friendship. “It’s alright, really. Those two are just hot air. I couldn’t just let them pick on you like that. Not after the way they pick on me for being a blank flank.”

“But you aren’t a blank flank.”

The sentence took a few seconds for Cananor to correctly process, his mind a jumbled mess. Nearly toppling over his own clutzy hooves, the unicorn hastily swivelled on the spot and caught site of his flank. A pair of black balancing scales stared back at him, almost weighing against the probabilities of this being a dream. Sweet Celestia; He’d earned his cutie mark.

Cananor fainted.

The stars silently disbanded, having finished performing their nostalgic play against the blank canvas of the night sky. The quietly slipped away, back into their rightful formation, guardians of the hovering blackness. Cananor sighed, contently, sprawled amongst the beautifully humming flowers.

Starfire’s mouth twitched. His horn lit up, for all of a second, and then the light deteriorated away. Neon veined flowers drifted closer to him, their natural auras feeding his magical needs. “I’ll assume that those two left you and Derky alone after that?”

Cananor laughed. That was the beauty of it. He could, now it was nothing but a memory, a dusty old relic buried deep in the labyrinth of the past. “Nope. I actually got bullied worse than ever after that. But still, it was worth it. I had finally discovered my true calling; I am a firm believer in justice, always was even from a young age, but that day I learnt that justice could be served via negotiation, instead of force. That was the day that I knew I wanted to become a lawyer, defending the weak and protecting the innocent, and delivering justice to the evil-doers of Equestria. Of course, when my dad saw my cutie mark that evening, there was a lot of explaining to do, even more when I told him I wanted to enrol in Law School. He’s the old fashioned type, very stuck in his ways you see. When he found out that I wasn’t going to take over the family profession as captain of the guard, we had a big argument and... thank goodness for my mother.” His smile faded, slowly and indiscreetly. “Sometimes, when I lie awake after another failure, I wonder if I made the right choice after all.”

The humming intensified. The glowing leaves grew brighter. Starfire’s horn glinted with magical power. It was uncomfortable, and yet he willed himself on. Maybe, in a way, Cananor’s ramblings were keeping his mind off of the severe discomfort. “What happened to those two bullies then?”

The beige-coated lawyer shifted his weight and closed his eyes, the blinking stars above him compressing and flattening into stretching lines of blurred light as his eyelids slowly fell. “Well, Barry ended up joining the Ponyville Guard. He was lucky to even get in, considering the fact that he left school with literally no qualifications.”

“And what of Thunder Charger? Did he also join the Ponyville Guard?”

Cananor’s voice grew quieter. He yawned, mouthing some incoherent message to the universe, and replied, “That’s the funny thing. I don’t know. After Belove sorted him out during that school race, nopony ever heard from him again. I think he moved to Canterlot, or something.” Eyes closed, he wearily turned his head to where Starfire sat. “Where did you go to school, anyway? Celestia’s school for Gifted Unicorns? I haven’t seen many unicorns that...”

“SHH!”

The sharp, hushed warning took Cananor by surprise. At first, he didn’t quite know how to react. His eyes flicked open and he bolted upright. “E-excuse me?”

“SHUT UP!”

“EXCUUUSSSE ME?” Cananor hoisted himself onto all fours, unsure of whether to be a little angry or a whole heap of confused. His shot out his hoof accusingly. “What did you...”

The flash of lightning (or at least that’s what it resembled) lasted no more than a mere millisecond but it was long, and blinding bright, enough to completely obscure Cananor’s vision with a thick sheet of velvety whiteness. Considering the strange resemblance to the flash of lightning that had blinded him at the Summer Sun Celebration, Cananor fell to his hooves, trembling, as though Nightmare Moon had hunted them down and was ready to finish them off for good. His eyes slowly battling to see through the intense light, he saw Starfire’s bright white silhouette dance and spasm as the student levitated higher off the ground, white prisms of light erupting from the tip of his horn and striking the surrounding trees. They, in turn, began to glow a deathly white, veins like those of the flowers seeping through the bark. Starfire’s eyes themselves were shut tight in either concentration, effort, pain or perhaps all three. The lawyer’s hoof instinctively shot out to help his hovering comrade. “STARFIRE!”

No sooner had his hoof made contact than Cananor felt himself being blasted backwards accompanied by a deafening roar, wind skimming the fur on his back. He tumbled off into the flower bed, a thin trail of greyish smoke following his descent. Battered and bruised, he lifted his head and saw that, through the blinding light, Starfire was lowering back down to the soft green earth. He silently collapsed to the ground, the light faded, his horn returned to its dull blue hue and then all was still as death but for the scampering of various fleeing woodland critters.

Cananor, still dazed and half blinded, pulled himself through the patch of now silent plants to Starfire’s immobile body, crumpled in a twisted heap. He gently shook the blue unicorn.

“Starfire? Starfire?” He was unresponsive, unmoving, eyes shut in restful slumber. As far as Cananor could tell, he wasn’t breathing.

“Starfire, come on buddy.” Cananor placed a hoof on his motionless chest. He did not stir. “Come on, Starfire. Wake up.”

No answer.

Cananor’s eyes filled up, glistening with sadness. “Don’t do this, Starfire. It isn’t funny.” He shook him again, more violently. “Come on.”

“Please.”

And then Starfire bolted upright in one swift flurry of movement, eyes open and darting like he’d just overdosed on caffeinated coffee. Cananor felt a long, grateful sigh of relief pass his lips like the sound of a deflating balloon. He coughed away his panic. “Are you alright?”

Starfire didn’t answer for what seemed like hours, merely observing his surroundings. “I don’t think I’ll try that spell again.”

“Are you okay?” Cananor, genuinely worried, lifted the trainee teacher’s left foreleg, inspected it, then allowed it to fall by his side. “You’re not injured, are you? Was it meant to do that?”

Starfire stumbled onto shaky, unsteady legs. He wobbled, almost fell, but retained his balance. “I’m fine. Things got a little more intense than I imagined, but no matter, because the spell was a success.”

“If you call nearly disintegrating yourself a success...”

Starfire tapped his horn. It lit up with pure white magic, not his usual blue aura. “I can sense multiple magical entities, some weaker than others. I can only assume that’ll be our missing stallions, perhaps even the girls.”

Cananor shrugged. “And can you trace Nightmare Moon to her location?”

Eyes closed tenderly, he nodded. “Yes. It’s coming from this way.” He pointed off into the deep undergrowth, glowbugs lighting the way for coincidental effect. “We can catch up with the Pegasi if we hurry.” With that, he galloped off into the shrubbery, leaving behind him a trail of white light.

Cananor ‘pfft’. All this time Starfire had spent lazing around sniffing flowers, and now he had the audacity to tell him to show some hustle? Still, at least they were one step closer to going home, and he was one step closer to showing his father that he was a true stallion.

And all it takes is one wrong step to be thrown into the abyss.