“A dash of evergreen, will create the steam, the powder of red moss, will keep it cross,” Zecora chanted in her rhythmic tongue as she worked over her cauldron, crouched in the middle of her hut.

It was not long after she and the young Apple Bloom returned from Aisling’s grove that she set to work. She was no longer merely a guest or visitor in the great Everfree, she was now a charge, a guardian given command to guard it. The zebra, for all her wisdom and knowledge, had never once been given a task of such weight. She knew full well the importance of the situation she was responsible for.

But the zebra could not defend the forest, not without preparing something new. What little she had was used to keep the beasts of the Everfree from attacking her. Not a thing in her possession was made to defend the forest as a whole. So used to, so sure of, the idea that the forest needed no protection, Zecora gave it none.

But now, the very guardian of the woods was asking her to keep it safe in her absence. It was not a task she could fail.

“Let it run with the blue, with Poison Joke’s hue. Then let it sit, like the red of Quick Whit,” Her hooves expertly placed the ingredients in the cauldron as she spoke on, each one acting upon the brew precisely as she had predicted. Her golden eyes peered over the iron brim, studying the concoction she was crafting.

It bubbled lightly with the fire stewing beneath the bot, slow and with great size, like thick molasses. It churned green now, after the addition of all the ingredients in the amounts the zebra had given, it was the perfect shade and hue. She nodded thankfully, sure that it was concoction was coming to fruition as she had wished for it to.

“Now I must move it to the highest tree; there it will keep this forest truly free.” A low sigh escaped her lips as she finished her words.

The stew she brewed was not to be ingested nor intentionally spilled. It was a brew she had read of in her homelands in what now seemed to be ages ago. It had the scent of magic, a taste of ancient arts, and even the color of life behind it. It would do little good for any pony, herself included, to look or draw upon the potion. It was not meant for ponies.

No, the potion she now vatted was meant for something else entirely. She knew full well that she alone, even with the aid of Apple Bloom, could not stand to defend an entire forest, not one that required the efforts of an immortal Fae. What Zecora needed was something to either stave away or draw deeply other ancient spirits. It took some time musing on her way back, just as much time spent in short conversation with Apple Bloom, but it was decided with good reason to pursue a potion to draw spirits.

It was as the ancient Aisling said, she was one of the last now in the land. With the awakening of the Ley Points, new spirits would awaken likewise, both of good and ill. If they were to defend the woods, they would have to draw the spirits that were willing to aid, for no potion would be strong enough to repel the likes of Macha.

So with Zecora’s brew concocted and ready to satiate the winds, all she had to do now was move it. The sagely mare closed her eyes as he thought of just how she was going to manage such a feat.

Apple Bloom had been only too eager to speak of where the tallest tree was, in a glade the Fae had told them from before, but she knew little of how to truly climb such a monolith. It was by the aid of the Tuatha that Apple Bloom was able to climb to such a height, but now she was gone. What’s more, it was incredibly unlikely Aisling would even be able to aid. Her cauldron, after all, was made of iron.

“Zecora?” The curious call of the young filly echoed outside her home. The zebra turned to face the door. “Zecora, can ya come out for a sec? Ah see somethin’ weird.” A small amount of fear gripped the zebra.

The unseen guardian of the Everfree was gone, leaving only the two ponies behind to guard it. Would it be possible for a foe to enter the forest so soon after Aisling’s hasty departure? Zecora could not think so. The Fae were elder creatures, caring not for time. To move in so swiftly after the pale nymph’s mission was the likely action of a creature that was laying in weight, not a great spirit restricted or bound.

Zecora placed a lid over her great pot, quickly making for the door soon after. It opened with a creak, lightly brushing against the twigs and frayed strands of rope. Light rays of sun warmed her coat, diluted by the high canopy. It was an experience she was used to at this point.

It took her barely a moment to located Apple Bloom, her bright coat obvious against the dark colors of the forest’s vegetation. She was turned away from the zebra, her bow and muzzle aimed into the dark foliage of the woods. Her tail swayed lightly, her body as still as the trees around her. Zecora trotted to the filly swiftly.

“What do you see with your youthful eyes? Is there something hidden in a guise?” Zecora asked, scanning the perimeter with her eyes. The filly turned to the elder mare as she approached, already used to Zecora’s rhyme scheme. Frequent visits had made that easier.

“Well, Ah ain’t gonna say it’s hidden, but Ah didn’t want ta just wander into the forest again, not without some pony with me.” If not for the warnings of her sister and Aisling, then the experience earlier today solidified the rule of making any new treks into the Everfree with a partner a must. Zecora looked from the filly to the spot in the forest she was gazing, and then she saw it.

It was impossible to miss.

Like the mist Aisling had sung to or the great moving portraits of Brendan’s tomb, there was a object in the forest that was moving without reason to. It didn’t sway like the fog or drift like the paint from before. Rather, it hovered.

There was a lone flower, cut from the steam and free of the earth, hovering above the ground.

Zecora stared at the object from a distance, her golden eyes squinting at it. She knew full well the impossibility of what she was seeing, impossible without the interference of magic. Though magic it clearly was, she knew knot whose it was.

“Ya think we should check on it?” Apple Bloom asked curiously, her gaze twisted in minor confusion and lips puffed out. Zecora blinked slowly before turning to the filly. Truthfully, she did not know.

It was something she would check on in most other days. The forest was her home, and there was little to fear in the woods. But with the guardian of the forest gone, and the threats of beyond ancient times returning, she knew little of how to approach such a thing. It was, to her great disappointment, outside of her experience.

But, her wisdom was not something to ignore. True, the times were different and the forest now changed, but to ignore a problem was something she simply couldn’t do. Though she could judge little on what the cause of the flower was, it was now her promise to protect the forest, and that meant judging what was normal in the Everfree.

“Indeed we should, but with care. There are new threats, we must beware.” The filly nodded at the zebra, crouching low to the ground. She stuck her tongue out, as if concentrating on how to sneak up on the airborne flower. Zecora eyed her for a moment, remembering that Apple Bloom, brave as she was, was still a filly.

Before Zecora could voice her concern, the filly began to tip-hoof into the woods, sneaking across the underbrush like a clumsy snake. It would have been cute and entertaining if the situation were not potentially dangerous.

The zebra reached out, ready to touch the filly on her shoulder, but Apple Bloom froze before contact was made. Her eyes were wide with wonder once more, but now bore a slack-jawed expression as well. Zecora stopped herself, confused, before her eyes turned back to the flower. And when she did, she saw why the filly had suddenly stopped.

The lone flower was no longer alone.

Around the floating bud hovered something new. Though difficult at first through the shadows and soft light, the new addition became clearer and clearer. It was colored almost completely green, varying only in shades and hues. It had no brown of bark nor colors of petals. Only greens, emeralds, and jades. Neither were branches of trees or bushels of shrubs upon it. Instead everything flowed together, all into one. From a distance, it looked as if it were made purely of silk.

That was not to ignore the fact that it, itself, was also hovering. Weightless in the air and free of any earthly bind, it drifted around the flower, lightly poking higher and lower around it, observing it with vast interest. Silent as a lifeless home, it moved about the lone thing, never doing more than what the two ponies could assume was simply looking.

Then it stopped.

Zecora and Apple Bloom felt a shiver run through their bodies, sensing without sight this new thing staring at them. Across the short clearing and through the foliage of trees, they stared at it and it stared at them. Silence was only kept away by the chorus of the Everfree.

Then it began to move toward them, slowly and gracefully as it had before. It did not lurch forwards nor charge with abandon. Instead it flowed, as if swimming through the air like water. So enchanted and unafraid, Apple Bloom continued to stare at it, raising herself to the tips of her hooves to better reach the height it approached as it came nearer and nearer.

Zecora was far more wary of the new creature, heeding the words of Aisling to guard her forest in her absence. Her form crouched slightly, preparing herself should she need to pounce or move at a moment’s notice. For now, however, she viewed the creature as far more curious than threatening. She could only hope it remained that way.

It didn’t take long for the creature of green to be within whispering distance of the two ponies, and when it was, far more became clearer to see. What was once silk was now seen to be moss, hanging in tightly grown clumps and hanging from its hovering form. Thicker strands were seen to be different, and not the previously thought to be singular object. There was indeed moss hanging from it, but there were also long vines laying downwards, grassy green ropes swaying like hair through the space beneath it.

Zecora and Apple Bloom stared at it, and it, assumingly, stared back at them. Apart from Zecora’s deep breathing and Apple Bloom’s light panting, the two made no other sound. The creature moved again before they did.

Either side of the hovering green figure rose upwards, curling towards the vines that hung from the top of its body. Zecora watched, both enthralled and cautious, as light green fingers poked out from beneath the thick moss. They were dainty, soft, like a freshly grown leaf on a newly blossomed tree. They snaked into the vines, lightly grabbing at the natural ropes. Then, with but a touch of effort, it moved the thick material away.

A face waited beneath.

It was just as green as every other part of the creature, but far more feminine than Zecora thought it would be. Every feature of the anomaly’s face appeared to be untouched, unmarred, by the forest, as if time had simply no effect upon it. Its skin… her skin flowed across her like the rays of a sun upon freshly formed dew.

The only part of the creature that was not green were her eyes. They were golden, much like Zecora’s own. An auburn tint with a curious spark, they peered down at the young filly and aged zebra, full of more wonder than animosity. It was a sight Zecora was somewhat relieved to see.

But if there was only one word Zecora could bring to say about the creature, it would be the word that Apple Bloom had just muttered beneath her awed breath.

“Beautiful.”

BEGIN

The green creature blinked as it looked down at the young filly, its lips still shut, completely silent. Her hands pushed away the remaining vines upon her head, letting them flow to the sides as if she truly did exist in water. Her body fell downwards, almost laying upon the ground as she stared at the filly. Apple Bloom returned the gaze without fright or hesitation.

The creature simply dwarfed the filly in size. Zecora could only imagine the imposing form of a manticore matching the height of this floating creature. But while the manticore would roar in protest of newcomers, this creature of green appeared only to be curious and involved.

“Me?” The word spooked Zecora.

It was ethereal to hear, as if it had not been spoken in centuries past. She could only assume that very much was the case.

“You bet,” Apple bloom spoke in return, her excitement visibly growing. Her tail wagged like a dog as a grin began to ripple across her lips. “Ya look like ya grew straight outta a tree. There are even some branches in yer mane.” The filly’s hoof pointed at the creature’s flowing vines, particularly a leafy attachment that stuck out from them. The creature, however, did not move to clear them.

“It was from a tree that I was born,” the creature spoke in return, her voice lacking none of the fluid tone from before. “A tree where I was wished, crafted, and now reside. A tree that is my home.” A dainty smile lifted her lips. “I remember you.” The words made Apple Bloom blink.

“Ya do? From where? No offense, but Ah would’ve recognized you if Ah’d seen ya before.” The smile on the creature vanished as swiftly as it had appeared.

“Do you not? It was only this morning.” The creature rose upward as she spoke, the full size of her body becoming clear. Zecora took a nervous step back, feeling very small in the shadow of the green creature. “You sat upon my highest branches, looking down upon the wood with awe and joy. It was there the guardian gave you her name.” A light of realization lit itself not in Apple Bloom’s mind, but Zecora’s.

“You are the highest tree of the Everfree,” the zebra spoke with sureness in her tone. “In the glade free of time, you are the tallest tree to climb.” And with those words the smile returned.

“I am,” she spoke in almost a whisper, pleasantries in her voice. “Though I do not remember you swinging from my branches, nor walking upon my roots.” Zecora, like Apple Bloom, blinked at the statement, realizing quickly what the spirit meant.

“Forgive me for the delay, but I have never been to the glade. I know only tales that are tall, as those are simple to recall.” The zebra gave a short bow the creature before raising herself back up. “I am Zecora of the Everfree. This meeting holds a great honor for me.”

“And Ah’m Apple Bloom!” The filly shouted gleefully, lacking the formalities of her striped friend. “What’s yer name?” Though lacking with the awe that satiated Zecora’s words, Apple Bloom held no disrespect in her tone. The tall and ever so elegant creature took none in return.

Rather, she leant down to the filly, scooping up the foal in her hands. Apple Bloom steadied herself as she found herself being raised into the air. It took little time until she was eye to eye with the green creature, staring eye-to-eye with the smile of the forest being.

“I have no name,” she spoke in her song-like voice, the wind following her words. “No title nor label to address by me. I used to be one of many, now I am one of a few. I was saved by the forest’s guardian, and now I grow the forest as I can.”

Zecora’s features went limp.

It was so obvious, too obvious now. The creature was what the young Twilight Sparkle suspected Aisling to initially be. She was not a Fae, not a member of the godly race of the Tuatha De Danann. She was not a creator of anything. She was merely created by something.

This green being had a tree of her own, a sacred root that she could not leave. She had a connection to the woods that only Aisling could rival. She was of a single form, as fluid and flowing as it was. She was what Zecora was attempting to communicate with before.

“You are a sprite,” Zecora whispered with the same awe she had offered Aisling before. “A being with only one plight. You nurture the woods as your home, letting the trees grow and flowers comb.” The green eyes of the green creature sparkled like the sun.

“You know of me?” Her voice asked with delight. “You know of what I do?” Apple Bloom swayed warily in the open palms of the large creature, doing her utmost to keep her four hooves planted.

“I know of stories about your history. Of the rest, you are still but a mystery.” The zebra shook her head more of shame than disrespect. “I may beg of you forgiveness, for much of this I am still amiss. Tales are easy to learn and speak, but to witness them is something to which I am still meek.”

“Actually, we do know yer guardian.” Apple Bloom spoke up, earning the quick gaze of the green fairy again. Her long, emerald-shaded hair waved in the wind, never settling about her shoulders. The young filly, easily dismissed the oddity of that. “Ah mean, you are talkin’ about Aisling, aren’t ya?” And with that question, the sprite’s face beamed again.

“Yes, the one who enjoys the branches as a home.” Apple Bloom and Zecora couldn’t ignore the way the vines and moss about the sprite appeared to flow with her own happiness. It was as if they flowed in her glee. “Countless seasons she has watched over us, ensuring protection in return for our trust. She comes in many forms, as many as the forest has. But every so often she takes the form of man.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said her friend was, right?” Apple Bloom questioned for clarification. “Ah mean, she never said it, but Brendan did look an awful lot like her, ‘cept he was a whole lot taller.”

A small gasp left the sprite’s lips.

One of her dainty hands was raised to her mouth, her golden eyes looking down upon the filly with what Zecora could only assume was shock. Shock, or horror. She prayed to Luna it was the former.

“You have met him?” Her ethereal voice questioned. “You met the one who saved the woods?” Apple Bloom nodded at the question, not doubting who the sprite spoke of. The action did little but cause the sprite to rise it the air. She was hovering well over the heads of the ponies now.

“Does that mean somethin’?” The filly asked curiously. “Ah mean, Aisling invited us to go see him, after we all asked politely ‘course. Then he just sorta… appeared.” Apple Bloom’s features slowly fell as she spoke, until her gaze was on the ground and not the new creature she had just met. Zecora did not have to guess why. “It made Aisling sad.”

“The guardian saw him?” It was a silent dash that put the creature to eye level with the filly, her face still absorbed in the shock of what she had been told. “She saw the savior?” Apple Bloom nodded again.

“If I may pose a question or two, why is this news important to you?” Zecora was careful with her words, but unlike the filly, her mind had never let go of the task she promised to the guardian, to Aisling. She had to defend the woods, and the sprite was very likely an ally they would need. “Surely Aisling must have spoken of this, a stranger that gave her life bliss.”

“The guardian spoke little of her past, of any past. Only of reminders that she had one.” The sprite’s hands vanished into the moss of her body as she looked away from the pair. “Only stories between my sisters and brothers, only whispers of what once was before the time of magic’s end.”

“Magic’s end?” Apple Bloom questioned. “Magic ain’t gone, we use it all the time.” Zecora, however, answered the filly in place of the sprite.

“She speaks not of magic that we require, but of the old world and what transpired. She means of Brendan and the fate of man, such as the Ley Lines and the Tuatha clan.” The sprite nodded eagerly towards the zebra, her vines shaking with her body.

“You know of those times, from your stories and tales?” The zebra made clear eye contact with the floating spirit before nodding again. “Then there is truth in them, truth in what they mean.” Now Zecora was lost again.

“What do you mean what they mean?” Apple Bloom questioned. “Do you know about Macha?”

END

The sprite let out a whimpering cry.

It was a pitiful sound, one that made Zecora’s heart sink more than it did her ears ring. She felt as if a piece of her heart bled by the sound alone, a torture call she could not endure. Her legs felt drained as her face fell down. The sprite fared no better.

Her entire form seemed to darken. The once-light moss grew old and decayed, her long vines thin and withered, even her smooth and soft face wrinkle and cracked. It was as if the filly and zebra had witnessed time wash over the sprite as eons in seconds.

“Wha-What’s wrong?” Apple Bloom blurted out, tears coming quickly to her eyes as she quickly trotted to the creature, placing her hooves on the green ends of the sprites form. “What happened?”

The sprite looked down at the filly, swiftly lifting her up to her face. Apple Bloom let out a small gasp of surprise before she righted herself, staring at the nymph with an all-but terrified gaze. The creature spoke not a word for a moment, instead letting her golden eyes stare at the filly, as if holding the small pony close for warmth. Apple Bloom shivered at the stare.

But slowly, collecting herself in the most literal of ways, life flowed back into the sprite. Color returned to her vines and moss, length to the mane of greens and thickness to the hide of grass. But it was not the same vibrant green as before.

Tints of deep blue ran over the once bright green, specks of white over the hints of emerald. The flowing moss and vines appeared far more rigid, the sprite’s hovering form nearly solid though shivering. It was if a frost of winter had settled over her. Her breath was still slow, her gaze was still terrified, but now she could speak once more.

“She is the one we whisper of, one of the three we shun to name. She is the one that heralds the coming, a spark for the fire or tip of the spear. The first to come and first to warn.” Zecora, for not the first time in her life, absorbed herself in the short story of the sprite.

“Who else will come from this past? Who will be next and who will be last?” The sprite turned to the zebra, her face no less shaken than before.

“We tell of three who were born as one, who live apart until their time has come. Macha will lead and find the two. She will find her sisters, Anann and Badb, and they will rule again.” Though Zecora doubted the sprite needed it, her breath seemed shallow and chest tight.

“W-W-What’s gonna happen then?” Apple Bloom was shivering like the hands she was standing on, terrified and confused. “What are they gonna do?” The sprite, lacking the delicacy of talking to a filly, coated nothing with soft words.

“They will become one, and they will be The Final Queen.” Nothing in that sentence sat well with the zebra, but the sprite was not done. “We must stop them, we must aid the guardian. We all must!”

“Hold for a moment wise sprite, as this also gives us much fright.” There was no need to explain the terror the zebra and filly shared. Just as the green sprite appeared frosted in cold, the two ponies shook in turn. “What is the name of this final queen and what is her coming to truly mean?”

The sprite stared at the zebra, glancing at the quivering filly before returning her gaze once more. Even the vines upon the creature shivered in the silence between the three.

“The Final Queen comes to rule, to take by force and command through destruction.” There were no other ways to take the sprite’s words, but she was not done. “She rules plains through embers, homes through infernos, and trees through a blaze. For her magic is not holy, for the savior gave his all to save us from her evil. The guardian wept for the savior, and we live for them both.”

“W-Who is she?” Apple Bloom asked in a whisper. The sprite answered with her own quiet words.

“She is the winged Fae. She is the meaning of decay. She is the luster of war. She is the messiah of hate. She is the hatred of all and the love of none. She is the beconner of crows and the horn for hell. She is everything the guardian is not.” The sprite finished her dark monologue with a whisper.

“She is the Morrígan.”