Kisses and Crinkles

Lyra breathed in deeply, forced herself to ignore the impending hitch, fighting the urge to break into a shallow pant. It was the best she could do to suppress a yawn and, by extension, admit defeat to the magical weeds, as she waited for the muscles in her upper legs to stop burning.

The climb uphill would have already been excruciating by itself, but the fact that the weeds had been sapping her strength increasingly more made it feel like the world was out to obliterate her in both body and mind. If she allowed herself to yawn now, it would be the end. Where there was a yawn, a comfortable stretch wasn’t far off. And where there was a stretch, a relaxing recline would soon follow. And who knew what would happen then. There was no way Lyra was falling asleep in this infested wilds. Not while she was being watched by those disgusting perverted plants.

The weeds had only shown up sparsely as of late. No wonder, they obviously preferred to take the path of less travel. Lyra knew there was a path somewhere off to the side that led to the summit rather comfortably, but she had avoided it purposely. It had been obviously overgrown with weeds when she had passed it, and she didn’t know how much more of them she could take.

A dull sting had taken hold of her neck, a clear sign that she was arriving at the end of her capacity for sword fighting, against overwhelming odds. Instead, Lyra found herself scaling the wild side of the hill, wobbly ledges of slippery rock alternating with steep stretches of rolling earth, held together only by the supporting network of confusing brambles and tangly branchwood. A few seconds’ breather was all she could spare when she had entered the comparatively supple shelter under a small spruce. But now she had to go. The urge to lie down and close her eyes was chasing after her like a wild beast, and she couldn’t let it catch her.

Lyra started off once more in the same direction as always, up the incline. Something yanked her hind hoof back and she fell. She had to hold her chin up so she wouldn’t bite on the handle of her machete. Same as always. She hardly cared about anything else anymore, as her chest took the brunt of the impact.

“Seriously?! What’s it this time?” Lyra raged, heavily sighing into the mud under her nose. The wet earth seemed so welcoming. Everything was earth and everything went back to earth. Just lie down for a second and … wait, no! “Hey, wait up, I need some light here.”

The sprite couldn’t understand her, and neither did Lyra need to speak to get it to do what she wanted. But she would go crazy if she didn’t have somepony to talk to.

It twirled carelessly through the air, bouncing toward Lyra’s leg unhindered upon unfelt winds, even though the pouring rain. The icy water did nothing to clear the encrusted mud off of Lyra’s clothing. She couldn’t even tell where her legs ended and her raincoat began under all the dark sludge, even though the sprite did a pretty good job of driving back the impenetrable shadows. She could see the knotted vines her boots had become entangled in though.

“Yarrow? In the middle of the forest?” Lyra said, “This is getting more ridiculous by the minute. I’ll show you-- Ugh, trying to drag me down …” She kicked at the plant with her free leg, and it soon broke off and released its grip on her boot as it rolled away into the darkness. Lyra spun around and got up on her legs again.

“You won’t stop me, you hear?” she howled at the trees, “I know you’re trying to keep me from reaching my goal. I’m on to you! But I am going to get up that hill, and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

Before she could think it any better, Lyra stormed off.

She had to focus on making progress. She had no choice. Every branch she pushed aside that snapped back at her, every incline she climbed up that threatened to give way under her hooves, every cluster of snarled brambles that scratched her exposed skin, every magic weed that she smashed with contempt, every stretch of the hill that she could master despite her legs feeling like they would fall off. Small victories. And Lyra had to celebrate each and every one of them like it was her greatest accomplishment.

It was the only way not to succumb. The entire forest did its best to prevent her from reaching the top of that hill. The very earth didn’t want her to go up there. The contagion of magical weeds didn’t want her to go up there. Damn it all! Even Lyra herself didn’t want to go up there! She knew exactly what was waiting for her! It was the last reported location of their two wayward ponies, Parting Ways and Teak. Parting had barely made it back alive, but Teak had been left behind, badly injured and severely weakened. Many hours ago. Within this hostile environment. What did Lyra think she would find up there? The land of milk and honey?

Doesn’t matter. Don’t think. Just keep moving.

Lyra’s biggest relief and her worst fears soon coalesced into reality, in a harrowing turmoil that felt like it was tearing her apart. She panted hard, but not by exhaustion, but solely to cool off as her limbs stiffened from an electrifying jolt, her eyes burning because she had wrenched them open so wide.

It was red. Muddled, darkened and covered in dirt, but it was unmistakably red.

Lyra promptly tore through the increasingly sparse vegetation before she emerged onto even ground. She recognized this clearing, they had been here before.

On the top of the hill, an open space untouched by the forest’s rough climate, the trees not daring to intrude further, as if to give the delicate environ a few paces in diameter of room to grow. It was like a tiny, soft meadow, just the most silky grass and the thinnest shamrock, the most colorful of flowers and the most frugal of mosses. Like a miniscule ecosystem, agreed upon to be left alone by all of the forest, designed just to be pleasant to the senses and to be trodden upon only by those who seek refuge in amenity.

Very romantic. Lyra could make it out well. There must have been some semblance of moonlight finally able to penetrate the cloud cover in order to gingerly caress this little paradise with its velvety touch. Though it wasn’t apparent how the light got through, since the rain still hammered down, stronger than ever before, onto the broadside of Lyra’s blade with sharp metal tinks.

Lyra dropped her machete into the grass. There was only one thing that caught her attention. The neat little woven picnic basket stashed away under the cover of the large beech that crowned this small escape with its majestic reach. The basket didn’t look much different to the one they had, the one Lyra had held in her own hooves just yesterday. It was a very sturdy basket, woven using only the best reeds, not particularly watertight but very light in return, ideal for a warm afternoon hike.

On top of the basket was a neatly folded red kerchief, properly tucked into the basket to protect whatever delicious contents from what had hopefully been just a brief autumn shower. Obviously it hadn’t worked, since the the basket and the fabric were dripping with water and had been sprayed with dirt from the weather, but still. This unexpected sign of actual civilization after such long of a trek through the complete wilderness was enough to drive a pony to her knees.

“Heeey!” Lyra called, struggling against the din of the storm, “Is anypony out there? Hellooo!”

“Hey! Say something if you can hear me!” Lyra called. And she called again.

She ran to the other side of the clearing and called into the forest. Then she ran to the third side and called out there. She wailed and hollered until her throat hurt.

She went back to the basket because she didn’t know where else to go. She called out all the way, but the answer remained the same throughout.

“Heeey! Come on! Answer me,” Lyra said, but her voice could no longer keep up, “Say something …”

But still. This was a success, and Lyra had to see it as such. She had reached her goal. She had found the spot that had been indicated to her in the beginning, and she had made it here in one piece. Nothing had been able to deter her, neither the weather, nor the forest, nor the magical plants.

Not many ponies could say they had achieved a feat like this. Maybe she could even brag about it. Not that she would, because there was something much more important to her. She had kept her promise to Bon Bon. Lyra had promised she would set out to find this guy, and that she would go as far as she could. Lyra never broke a promise to Bon Bon. She had gone as far as she could. This was her limit. There was nowhere she could proceed from here, and there was nothing more her body could give. She was at her end, but she had made it.

The sprite danced before Lyra’s head, its ethereal leaves spinning like mad. Was it sharing her excitement? They made it!

“We made it,” Lyra said. Finally she could allow herself to feel relief.

“We made it.” Lyra said. She smiled at the sprite.

“We made it!” Lyra said. She laughed.

“We made it!!” Lyra yelled. Her voice hitched.

“We made it …” Lyra said. The tears were hot pin pricks on her cheeks within the endless river of ice water.

“We … “ Lyra whispered, the world a haze, “we made it… ”

And then she screamed. “Curse it all!”

And she screamed until her throat gave out. And then she wheezed until she had to gasp for air. She threw herself onto the ground and pressed her face into the grass, and then she screamed into the grass. She screamed it all out. All the rage and frustration of her misshapen quest, how pointless it was. She screamed, and it was the first good feeling she had in what must have been ages. Lyra screamed until she could no more. And then she cried.

The fight eventually left her. The resistance all but fizzled out. Lyra turned onto her back. With the protection of her raincoat gone, the dark waters now hit her face and her limbs with brunt force. The ice pooled around the back of her head inside her hood. She didn’t care.

“It was all for nothing,” she said, “All of it. We made it, we travelled all this way, we fought and survived against the greatest odds, we overcame the violence of the storm and the menace of the magical weeds. And for what? The pony we were supposed to be looking for. Teak. He could be anywhere still. But he’s not here. There’s nopony here. We’re alone.”

“I don’t know, I thought I’d find some kind of absolution when we’d finally arrive,” Lyra said and pressed her hoof against her temple. She had a headache, somewhere far away in another galaxy. “I never should have agreed to this stupid quest. There’s nothing here for us. There never was. It was clear from the beginning we’d have a better chance of finding a needle in a haystack than finding Teak in the huge forest in the middle of the night during the fiercest storm of the year. I should have just stayed at home with Bon Bon. I should have had somepony else take care of it. Why even bother. But Bon Bon wouldn’t have let me. She would have told me not to give up on myself again. She would have had me do what I thought was right, no matter what.”

Lyra turned to the side. The rain dribbled on the smooth oily fabric over her ear while the water streamed out of her clothing under her head. There it came again. Her age old companion. The weakness, the lethargy. The doubt of self.

Lyra had been stuck in quicksand her entire life. Unable to move in the infinite sludge, her limbs weighed down by a thousand tons and a thousand more. Each hair’s breadth of progress cost her the strength to move a mountain. All she found that she was in the same place as before. Lyra couldn’t change anything. But Bon Bon could. Bon Bon had rescued her, had liberated her from her prison of impotence, had driven her on to realize a potential she hadn’t been aware of having, had shown her life like she hadn’t ever known possible. Bon Bon had pulled her out of the eternal quicksand, but Lyra had made them slip and dragged them both down into the depths.

Lyra didn’t want to think of her wife like this, but the weight was overbearing. What had she brought about for the both of them? How would she expect Bon Bon to feel after such a colossal failure? How could Lyra even look at herself in the mirror? It was way worse than she could have ever dreamed. Because it wasn’t even so much about finding the lost stallion when she set out to reach the top of this hill, as much as it was about finding herself. And Lyra did find herself, in all her true colors. A disappointment. A miscreant. A loner. Unable. Weak. Unfit.

Lyra groaned as she stood up, her hooves and her neck thankful for the brief respite. “Why do you have to believe in me so much, Bon Bon?” Lyra said, “Nopony ever believed in me. Even I don’t believe in myself. Look at me, I’m here with nothing better to do than wallowing in self pity even though I should be saving Teak’s life. But I just can’t. I don’t know what to do. I never know what to do without you, Bon Bon. If you told me where to go, I’d do it in an instant.”

Lyra finally allowed herself that yawn. The rain was a soothing remedy to her hoarse throat. She strolled around the clearing, seeing if she could find something to eat. “It can’t be helped, I suppose,” Lyra said, “I did really try, though. I tried to find him to the best of my ability. Didn’t chicken out this time, I’ll be able to say that. But I just can’t find him. He could be anywhere, and it’s been awfully long. I just can’t do it. I could backtrack from here, but I can’t pick and choose randomly and go into the unknown. I don’t know if I’ll make it. I can’t risk the folks back in Ponyville having two tragedies on their hooves instead of one. I guess I’ll just scavenge what I can find in that basket and hold out for a while. Better play it safe.”

The real tragedy was Teak, though. He would probably never have thought all this would happen when he arrived in Ponyville yesterday. All he wanted was to spend some time with his marefriend, the pony he loved, and what better place than a secluded haven of peaceful nature to spend your togetherness? He had no clue about the magical weeds growing shut behind him and sapping his life with sinister forces. He had no clue about the storm trying to tear half the landscape down throughout the frozen night. And even though his lover made it out alive, there was no way he could know that either. Was he scared for her when he had suffered from his injuries, or had he been concerned with his own survival? What had they said to each other when they had been together for the final time? Was he even still conscious or …

“No!” Lyra stomped her hoof. This fire in her chest. That was new. “Nopony should have to suffer like that. Neither Teak, nor Parting, nor anypony else. That’s what’s really wrong about all this. The right thing is all I can do, because there is no alternative. I know that’s what Bon Bon would say if she were here, and I agree. You agree too, right?” The sprite was hooked as it danced pirouettes in the air. “That’s the spirit.”

“Look, we still have one shot,” Lyra said, “And I promise I’ll only take a peek. I won’t go too far when I’m not certain I can return. We’ll just check the surroundings and then we’ll come back. I have to make sure he’s not right around the corner.” She’d rather come back here so tired she can collapse and sleep it out, than deal with these thoughts again. “We’ll have to give it our best effort, because if we go in the wrong direction, it’ll cost us the only time he has.” She’s his last lifeline. He has no chance. “We just need to think about this carefully. We have no clue where he could be, so let’s put ourselves in his position.”

Lyra knew she had entered the clearing from the south east because she had studied a map of the area some time in the past. That meant the direction from the entrance to the large tree pointed approximately to the north.

To the west lay a expansive descent that led down the hill into the broad valley, that ran all the way from here far into the adjacent lands and their own sloped geography. The valley was mostly flat and the forest was very sparse there. It was unlikely the weeds could have gained much of a foundation there.

“It would be the best if he had gone down there,” Lyra said as the sprite illuminated the gentle slope downwards, “that’s his best chance. There can’t be many weeds here as far as I can tell, and we could travel a lot further if the ground isn’t as rough. Then again, if he went down here, he could be very far. His chances of making it alone are slim, but it’s infinitely better than the alternative.”

Continuing on to the north west was a ridge that went on approximately the same level as Lyra was currently standing on. It connected the hill to the adjacent one and extended far into the north, where the terrain joined with the vast glades of Canterlot. The forest was fairly dense from here on out, and the weed infestation was apparent further in.

“Nothing we couldn’t deal with so far, right?” Lyra said, “They probably went here, since it’s the easiest way out. No climbing, no crawling, just smooth sailing. Until the weeds snap shut behind you, that is. Anyway, it’s easy to get separated here, which is probably what happened. One wrong step, one little slip, and away you are. Then she panicked and came back around, but he wasn’t so lucky. We’ll go in there, we find him, simple.”

The eastern path led to the wetlands. Completely overgrown with forest to begin with, and whatever else strange vegetation had crawled out of the swamp. That, and, as Lyra approached the passage, it was completely grown shut with weeds. The magical outgrowths blocked the way in a solid wall of those disgusting facsimiles of leaves, it made her want to hurl. Or maybe it was the exhaustion.

“Nope, not going there,” Lyra said, “If he went in there, then … well, I’m sorry, but chances are pretty much none at all. But he wouldn’t go in there, right? I mean, this must have been as overgrown when they arrived, they wouldn’t have tried to force themselves through, right?”

“The only logical thing would be to take the northern way,” Lyra said. She swallowed for must have been the fifteenth time in a few seconds. “Because the northern way leads into the same forest they had come through. If you don’t know what to do, but what you’ve been doing so far has worked out for you, then you continue doing it. Yeah, that makes sense.”

Lyra tried walking toward the northern opening, but her hooves were stuck to the ground. “Then again,” she said, “The only logical thing to do here is to take the easy way out. They must have headed to the west. They must have seen how open the space is and decided to take no chances. There’s no way that doesn’t make sense.”

Lyra’s body walked, but her spirit stagnated. “But they panicked,” Lyra conceded, “they couldn’t have made the logical decision. Nopony could have, in such a situation. What if they threw themselves toward the swamp after all … ?”

The dark pathway to the east loomed ahead. Lyra could swear she felt the swamp reaching out for her between the trees. “No!” Lyra said, “We have to believe! The western valley is our best shot. If he’s there, we’re bound to find him almost guaranteed. That’s where we’re going, because it makes so much sense!”

Wrong decision, and Parting never sees Teak again. “We’re going north!” Lyra said, “That must be it. It’s difficult to climb over the rocks, but not so difficult that we can’t manage. We can still cover quite a bit of distance because we’re such good climbers, and we’ll be able to clear him out of the weeds if he’s stuck in there. It’s the perfect balance. Please! It has to make sense!”

Wrong step, and Lyra never sees Bon Bon again. “Oh, curse it!” Lyra spat, “But they can’t have gone east. It’s suicide. It’s way too overgrown, nopony can go in there and find back out. And even if we clear a way so that we can come back, it would take us so long that we could never get very far. It’s like a shot in the dark. It’d be a miracle if we found him. And then what? Have you seen how many weeds there are? No, they would never be so careless and go in there.”

Satisfied with her explanation, Lyra turned around but whirled right back into position. “Then again, they ignored the weather warning posted at the town hall too,” she said. She couldn’t suppress a groan. The headache was becoming real. “I can’t choose right, no matter how I choose. I just don’t know. I need a hint. A clue. Anything.”

Lyra sagged down onto her haunches and sat onto the grass. The loneliness was serene in a way. There was nothing but the steady drumming of the rain and the glittering of the drops in the sprite’s subtle light. It was a very natural scene, almost inviting Lyra to give in to the urge and benumb herself on the sensoric pleasantries this place had to offer. The ground was so soft under her hind legs. The wind was so calm and smelled so fresh. The flowers were so juicy as they lay on their sides, folded up against the rain. This was a little paradise.

But Lyra had no part in it. Her body was beaten and exhausted, but her mind was still reeling. She couldn’t stop now, not before she went beyond her limits on this final excursion. If she didn’t satisfy that urge to do everything that was in her power, no matter how hopeless, it would gnaw at her for the rest of her life. And it was utterly hopeless. She didn’t even believe Teak had a chance, if she was honest.

The realization was horrifying, because it was the pure, unadulterated truth. He had no chance. Suppose the extremely unlikely scenario where Lyra actually happened upon him, after she bumbled down one of the three paths. Still, in two of three cases, Lyra would chose wrong, and that meant certain doom. The odds were stacked against her so unbelievably high, only a madpony would attribute her anything other than utter defeat.

It was clear nothing would come of this. Lyra would go out into the north, since it really was the most balanced of the three options, scout around for a bit fruitlessly, and then she would drag her already now resisting bones back under the tree and rest for a while. And that was that.

So close. She was so close to him. And it just barely wasn’t enough. A pony’s life in the balance, to be decided by such nonsense, practically a dice roll. It wasn’t fair. It shouldn’t be happening. But it couldn’t be helped. It was happening. And truth is, it couldn’t have been prevented either.

No point in crying about it.

“You have no idea how easy you have it,” Lyra said to the sprite, “You don’t care about any of this in the slightest, huh?”

The sprite didn’t make any indication otherwise. It danced around and twirled high into the air, before it decided to reach out and grab onto a subtle subtle breeze of the early morning wind. It turned and twisted elegantly, let itself be carried effortlessly by the myriads of impalpable turbulences of the atmosphere, like a leaf drifting away on the flow of a gentle river.

In the boundless turmoil of the dark abyss. A vanishing glimmer of light, barely there before it was torn out of sight again.

Lyra’s body had stiffened down to every last fiber. “Again,” she said, “What you just did, do it again.”

The sprite complied immediately. It bounced high up in the air and then it meandered down the currents of the sky. Like a leaf. On a river.

No, she hadn’t imagined it. There was something there, desperately trying to reach her. “Do it again!” Lyra bellowed.

The sprite flew into the air and drifted softly on the wind. A leaf on a river.

What was it about a river? “Again!” Lyra commanded.

The sprite moved through the air. Leaf on a river. “But there are no rivers here!” Lyra said, “There’s only Root Canal, and that’s no river! Do it again!”

Sprite. Leaf. River. Current. Water.

“Root Canal is no river …” Lyra said, “unless it rains. Then it carries all the rainfall from the surrounding hills. Then the current becomes strong enough for several rivers. The canal carries the water out of the forest, through the wetlands and then feeds into the swamp. But the stretch of land it has to cross before it gets there is pretty broad. It barely qualifies as a riverbed, you wouldn’t notice when there’s no rain. I heard this before. I know I did.”

The sprite did its dance once more, but Lyra didn’t need it anymore. She had taken hold of the light within the roiling black sludge, and it wasn’t getting away again. “Where did Parting say she came from again?” Lyra said, “She’d stumbled down the hill after they’d gotten separated, and then she said she’d forded a broad river before she’d been able to break out of the forest and come to us. I knew there was something off about that. There’s only one river she could have meant, and it’s the one that’s not really a river. She meant Root Canal.”

“We know they’d never actually reached the wetlands before they got separated, nor did they climb any of the adjacent hills. That means they must have rounded our hill on the other side, toward the only place you can cross Root Canal lower than the bridge. The junction between the forest and the wetlands. There’s no other way to reach it. Out to the east, stick to the hill side, keep to the south. And that means …”

Lyra tried to stand up, but found that she was already on her hooves and running. “That means we know exactly where Teak is,” she said to the sprite.

The sprite followed her eagerly. Its dance was pumped! The dim gloom inside Lyra’s chest had ignited into a blazing bonfire, enveloping her entire being as the night was lit up like day by her surging energy.

She picked up the machete. The handle was in her jaws like the air in her lungs. It felt right. It felt natural. Everything was clear. Don’t hesitate. Don’t think. Shine.

The trail. Above the clearing towered the massive tree, its grandiose crown one perfectly flowing crisscross of sprigs and leaves carried by a sturdy framework of rugged branches. One such branch was isolated, a limb pointing off in the direction Lyra needed to go.

She wiggled open the collar of her coat and pulled out the bulking mass of her scarf with her horn. The scarf’s warming presence was immediately absent from her chest and her neck, but it stood out magnificently in the dull of the dark. The fabric was red, but not battered and polluted like the basket, but fresh and intense, poised and ready to spring to action. A sign of life. A keepsake of Bon Bon’s.

Lyra would see it again, she was sure.

She reared up on her hind legs and stretched out as far as she could, and it was just enough to lift the scarf up to the branch. She wrapped it around, two times, and then twisted the ends into a loose knot. The way was paved. Lyra dropped back down and promptly turned toward her next obstacle.

The eastward passage loomed before her darkly, completely overgrown and scarred with magical weeds like massive tumors.

And Lyra was the cure.

She brandished her weapon and entered combat once more.

===

“Now wait just a moment, Bon Bon,” Applejack said, putting herself between her and the ledge.

Applejack was trying to keep Bon Bon away from the abyss before anypony else had been able to check it out, and it was a very clever thing to do. There was no telling what they would see down below. It was better to be prepared for any eventualities. Bon Bon didn’t care.

The tracks were all over the place. The adventurers had made pretty good ground once they had fallen into the rhythm of pushing through the leech seed and watching each other’s step on the uneven road, but all that hadn’t been much use when the road eventually broke off and they had to wade through the compacted debris of an age old landslide.

They obviously hadn’t been the first ones. It was fairly easy to get through, but the short hop had led them to the plateau. Despite being so wide and flat, it was an entirely natural formation, consisting mainly of a massive boulder’s relatively even top side. The boulder must have been here already since before the forest itself.

And the flat was covered in a bustle of muddied boot imprints, dragging dirt all over the place, but mostly toward the direction of the ledge. Beyond the precipice, the pointy crowns of a bunch of young pines grew at eye level. It was a pretty steep drop.

And the hoofprints were Lyra’s. Bon Bon knew, because this boulder had been their next destination.

“And?” Applejack said after Bon Bon had been staring over the edge wordlessly long enough.

“And what?” Bon Bon said, “Why are you all standing back there? Come closer and take a look! I’ve just been wondering how Lyra got down there. She hardly would have jumped, that much should be clear.” It wasn’t only banter to lighten the mood. Lyra could think really fast when she needed to, and there was no way she’d come to harm by this cliff.

“That’s not what I meant to imply,” Applejack said as they both looked into the depth, “it’s just …”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Bon Bon said, “better to err on the side of caution and all that. And you’re right, that’s what you should do. That’s what we all should do, there is no sense in taking unnecessary risk. But there’s nothing to worry about here. Lyra isn’t hurt. She knew what’s at stake here, and she wouldn’t even have attempted anything dangerous if she wasn’t completely certain she could handle it. She was careful and she made her way down this climb safely.”

“But how do you know that?” Applejack said, “Because we have to be sure in everything we do right now. Lyra’s a good climber and pretty athletic, but what if something’s gone wrong and we need to go look for her instead? Sure, she can handle herself, but even the fastest of minds can’t save you from the worst of luck. And to top it off, it’s dark and raining. I’m not trying to intrude, but we can’t afford making any mistakes right now.”

“No, Applejack,” Bon Bon said with finality, “I know Lyra stayed perfectly safe, because that’s what I asked her to do.”

Applejack couldn’t quite decide whether this was the sweetest or the most naive thing she’d ever heard.

“Oh, and because our next checkpoint is way further beyond those pines,” Bon Bon said, “she quite obviously made it down.”

Rarity snorted from the other side.

“You’re aware you’re not entirely on the sane side, right, Bon Bon?” Applejack said, wiping her brow, “Funny, I’d never figured you the type.”

“Everypony has their secrets, I suppose,” Bon Bon said with a wink.

“Alright,” Twilight said, “So we know there exists way down. Now we only have to find it. Everypony, please look around.”

The way was shortly found, though it hadn’t been apparent at first. At the far side of the boulder, where it met with the earth, the terrain had rolled over and engulfed the rock, but it had been eroded by the weather and washed out by the rain around the actual surface of contact.

Stepping down from the stone revealed a broad groove that was shallow enough to allow skidding down the slope without much problem. In fact, it was even somewhat fun! Bon Bon almost regretted not having sat and went down the muddy furrow like a slide. It seemed like something she should think about doing later, and it wasn’t like the dirt would have made any difference at this point.

Twilight and Applejack quickly moved out of the way when Bon Bon came to a running halt. She’d turned to her side to counteract the momentum of the slippery slope, but when Bon Bon straightened up, she was looking at empty forest. Where was everypony? Oh, they were behind her. She’d went in the wrong direction again.

Could have happened to anypony, but Bon Bon already knew it better. She felt the absence of her magical anchor much stronger as the distance between them grew. The world was floaty and directions kept changing whenever Rarity wasn’t there, which was - hopefully - the effect of the spell losing its supporting infrastructure. It made her head hurt. She needed to stay close.

Bon Bon went back to the slope just in time as Rarity came tumbling down. The dirt was slippery from the water and it didn’t provide much stability because it was so soft, and there were roots sticking out of the ground and trying to catch passing hooves everywhere, so even the most athletic pony would have had her trouble getting down that slope. However, Rarity was in much worse shape. Her step was so wobbly, it looked like she was going to fall over any second as she attempted to break her own momentum against whatever rocks and brambles she could get a hold of. Not only had her intricately designed rainwear been dirtied on their trek across the highs and lows of the terrain, but there were fat drops, presumably her own sweat, muddled by dust and earth running down Rarity’s brow in dark streaks.

It was akin to sacrilege besmirching a pristine coat like hers, but the unsightliness was nothing in comparison. Rarity looked deathly exhausted. Her head hung low, the gleaming locks of her beautiful mane a mere caricature as they framed her her swollen cheeks, her reddened eyes inset in tired tear bags and her languid jaw, mouth wide open snapping for air.

The sight was frightening, for Bon Bon had never seen Rarity like this. Rarity wasn’t given up, no matter the cost. Granted, Bon Bon had never been adventuring with her, something Rarity had a reputation for, but that sheer unrelenting, unhalting, unstoppable determination evidentially made her an outstanding adventuring partner. She was there, she was beyond stress and hardship. She was the way and the goal.

And she was always there for Bon Bon. Not the only pony giving it her all. Trying to master this insanity. Going beyond her limits.

Afraid of returning home with empty hooves.

Rarity came careening down the bottom mud slope, but she snagged a forehoof on a branch and was sent tumbling. Bon Bon was immediately by her side and bumped into her to prop her up.

“I’m fine,” Rarity said. They came to a stuttering halt together, but Rarity threatened to slip on the wet ground again without Bon Bon’s support.

“Are you alright, Rarity?” Bon Bon said, “If this is too much for you …”

“I said I’m fine,” Rarity snapped, shoving Bon Bon harshly away, “leave me alone!”

“Is everything okay over there?” Twilight called.

Bon Bon made some room and waved over to Twilight. “Everything okay, just slipped in the mud,” she answered. “Rarity … ?”

But Rarity had frozen in place. Her eyes were wide open, she didn’t dare breathe for a few moments. “Oh, Bon Bon, I’m so sorry,” she said, “I did not intend to do that!”

“It’s fine, Rarity,” Bon Bon said, “We’re all pretty stressed out.”

“No, what I mean is, I literally had no intention of doing that,” Rarity said, “I don’t know what came over me, but it did not happen of my own volition. These leech seed must really be getting into my head. Or maybe it’s the spell. I don’t know. I doubt even Twilight has a clear idea of how all of this exactly works. In either case, ever since we came this deep into the forest, I have been feeling so terribly on edge, it’s as if I’m tearing myself apart trying to dash off in every direction at once. And I’m powerless to do anything about it. It keeps making me wanting to kick something over, every time I’m overcome by this odd sense of frustration.”

“I did mean what I said, though,” Bon Bon said, “You don’t have to force yourself to do what you can’t. Without your help, we wouldn’t even gotten so far as fast as we did. You did more already than I know how to thank you for. Just don’t feel obliged to continue if you don’t want to. After all that’s happened, I can’t bear seeing you hurt as well, Rarity. These things can suck you in without you even noticing, when you keep going on and doing the same thing over and over again because you think you have to, until you arrive at something that is not possible because you’ve been going at it the wrong way. And frustration is a pretty good sign that something is going wrong.” She swallowed. “Believe me, I know frustration better than I’d care to admit.”

“I meant it too, in that I am fine, really,” Rarity said, “I know I can keep going still with the best of my knowledge and intentions, but I also know when to stop. Doing highly complex magic like this is much too dangerous for most ponies. Most ponies don’t even attempt acting on more sophisticated arcanery out of fear from the repercussions. That’s why I am grateful to share the burden with you, Bon Bon. This spell might be strange, but Twilight did estimate well when she split it up between us. I already feel more focussed just by being near you! But, as you already said.” She bit her lip. “There’s the lingering feeling of exasperation as well. And it sits deep. I’m not sure I can understand, and I don’t mean to step too close, but I just hope you’re alright, too. I don’t presume to know how you feel, but if there’s something wrong, I’m here to talk it out. We never knew each other as well I’d like to, but I would be delighted if that changed in the future.”

“I’d like nothing more, Rarity,” Bon Bon said, “I am so lucky to have you as a friend. But I am doing better than ever between Lyra and myself. Whatever happened in the past no longer holds me captive, and I am free to do what’s best for us now. I couldn’t be any more proud of this achievement, and Lyra helped me get there. Sure, not everything’s perfect, but I’m still doing very well.” The distraction was welcome. “Um, thanks for asking.”

The silent moment that passed between them was absurdly serene. No matter how beaten Rarity looked from the outside, the beauty that radiated from within could have outshone the sun itself. The dull dark brown of the forest draped in the shade of the night was pierced by the soothing fire of her cyan eyes, such was her compassion for a fellow pony that was in need of comfort.

It was not the beauty of looks, but the beauty of essence that made Rarity so outstanding. She did not bear the generosity of belongings, for it could never have contended with how extravagantly Rarity was generous of herself. Was there anything more a pony could give than her very own being? And Rarity treated the profound as if it was self-evident. She never questioned whether Bon Bon even was deserving of her attention, it sufficed that Rarity merely was in a position to help. Bon Bon hated to see that magnificent smile falter, but she was unable to stem the fresh tears.

“I just want to see Lyra again so bad,” Bon Bon said, “I can’t stop thinking about her. I keep seeing her before my eyes, as if she was standing at the end of the road, waiting for me. Her face, when she’s close. I can smell her mane and I can hear her voice. But she’s not there! I want to tell her how much I miss her, and how much I wish all this never happened. Lyra’s behind every corner but I never find her. The word frustration can’t even begin to describe it. This is pure torture. I know how stupid this sounds, but I can’t help it! I almost dare not say it, but by now I care about finding Lyra more than about finding Teak.”

“That’s not stupid,” Rarity said, “That’s only natural. You legitimately can’t help it since it’s the effects of the spell and the leech seed. And, like you said, we’ve all been under a lot of strain.”

“I know,” Bon Bon sniffed, “I just wish it would end. It’s terrifying.”

By now, it was Rarity propping up Bon Bon to support her. The sensation of contact with another living, breathing body was delightful, and a few moments went by silently to make sure it was none too short.

“Then let’s do the only thing we can do,” Rarity said, “and move on with haste. For both our sakes.”

“Yes, let’s,” Bon Bon said as they rejoined the others.