Strength Grown from Kindness

by Whateverdudezb

Rating: everyone
Tags: Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Angel, Fluttershy, Original Character, Adventure
Length: 11822

An equestrian soldier recounts the story of his time meeting with the Element of Kindness.

Fourth main installment in the Tutelary Spirit universe. Recommended reading order: Loyalty, Honesty, Generosity, Kindness, Laughter, and Friendship.

Many ages after the original adventures of the Elements of Harmony, a young soldier tells his story of when he met the Element of Kindness. And this story, like many of the stories about the Elements of Harmony, entails Kindness herself imparting a lesson of friendship to the one who needs it most.

Cover image belongs to Midnight6 -6 -6

Published 2015-11-23 00:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-04-24 00:25:24 UTC

Following the White Rabbit

In the woodland hills of thick bark and sturdy trees, where the streams flowed gently and quietly through the spacious forestry that was dense by the ceiling of colorful leaves that glimmered huefully in the late evening shine, there sat humbly a small cottage by a lonesome road. Built from the same bark of the surrounding forestry, the cottage was an epitome of humble housing far away from the sprawling urbanity of cities and townships; its wood-crafted furniture and homely front porch giving off a warm invite to guests better than any city dwelling ever could.

Yet for the two equestrian soldiers standing firm and iron-faced in their golden-enchanted armor, 'warm and inviting' were the last things on their minds as they spoke to the trembling mare lying frozen on her patio's swingbench; her auburn mane shadowing the eyes of her downcast expression as she listened to their words. Next to her, the equestrian flag that depicted Their Majesties encircling Their Sun and Moon was neatly enfolded on the bench, where upon a sealed envelope and a small medal that glimmered in the evening light lied on top of it.

With a nod of their heads and final words on their lips, the two soldiers said their goodbyes and made their way off the porch, soon enough disappearing beyond the curving stretches of the winding road as they left the still mare to stir alone on her dusk-covered bench.

And as the last vestiges of the twilight sun dipped behind the rolling hills of woodlands, as the final rays of the late sun's light were cast off of the autumn leaves that rustled gently in the wind, did the mare's first tears begin to fall.

BLAM!

The sudden noise startled the mare, and her teary, violet eyes widened fearfully as she recognized the sound of her home's backdoor being harshly slammed open. Quickly swinging off of her bench to lean over the side of her porch's wooden railing and gaze towards the back of her home, she was just in time to see an earth pony, too old to be called a colt but also too young to be called a stallion, gallop into the woods before disappearing completely behind the forest trees, the screen door behind him left swinging open.

"Steel!" the mare cried out to her son, pleading, "Steel, come back here!"

But the youth did not heed the call of his mother, too wrought with tears and furious emotion was he to slow his escape into the woods at his mother's behest. Instead he just continued to run blindly forth into the dark forest, the beginnings of the nightly sky overhead doing little to light the way for him as he fled the warmth and comforts of his home.

"No... He can't be... He can't..." were the desperate, defiant thoughts of the young pony, his tears wetting the forest floor as he galloped over roots and fallen bark. Tucked squarely in that awkward stage of growth where he was marked with a laurel wreath on his quarters but had yet to accomplish anything substantial by it, the young pony was of average height for his age, if a bit on the lanky side, with a clear coat of black color and a white mane that danced wildly as he galloped through the woods.

Deeper and deeper into the woods did the teenage pony run, hoping against hope that he'd find a better truth than the one he had just overheard back home. With the day's twilight over and the twinkling of the night just beginning, the forest had darkened into an abyssal maze that could staunch the heart of any brave explorer. But even with the trees inked black by their own shadows, the teenage pony galloped forth into the woods' gullet irregardless of its swallowing darkness, more afraid of the truth behind him than the unseen mysteries slithering about in the shadows around him.

Despite the suffocating blindness that the forest encroached on all who entered its folds during the Moon's reign, the youth knew these woods well enough for the darkness to deter little against his traversing; life-long familiarity in every fleeing step he took guiding him better than any map ever could.

...At least that was until he tripped over a particularly large root that jutted out from the ground like Discord's leg outstretched in front of a galloping pony.

"Gah!" exclaimed the young pony, his trip over the insidious root that he absolutely swore had never been there before spiraling him out of control and into a bushel of bushes. And like all bushel of bushes, these bushel of bushes were a merciless sort of shrubbery that was made obvious by the fact that there particular placement obstructed the view of the sudden, steep decline that the teenage pony suddenly found himself uncontrollably barreling down; his cries of pain as he fell through the evermore bushel of bushes growing atop the decline inciting the plants to dance with sick, humorous delight that only members of the kingdom Plantae could convey.

Eventually the decline leveled out and the youth's escape out of the large growth of bushes saw him speedily rolling across the ground, before slamming hard to a stop against the base of a lonely tree that stood isolated in a small clearing, an agonized grunt escaping out of the young pony's muzzle at his collision.

For but a moment, the forest was still; its silence vastly more condescending to the teenage pony's plight than the merciless bushes could ever convey with their dances.

Lying on his side, the young pony slowly shuffled closer to the base of the tree, where a lone beam of moonlight that pierced through the thick canopy of darkness enveloped him in an oasis of light against the surrounding sea of shadows, allowing visibility to his pain.

His coat was caked with dirt and small scrapes that trickled with blood, his mane was lathered with mud and twigs that pricked painfully at his head, and his face was stained red by the trail of tears that flowed freely down his cheeks. And although the young pony was battered and bruised from his short tumble, it was not the pain of the body that originated his tears, but rather of a greater pain that overshadowed and numbed the aches of his body...

Instead it was the sorrow of his heart that birthed such rivers of woe.

And under that lone tree bathed in moonlight, as the distraught pony bundled himself closer to the trunk for some small measure of comfort, as he let the truth finally catch up to him and allowed the anguish to take a hold of him, as he succumbed himself to a period of mournful tears and bemoans, as the time passed away for what seemed like hours, as the groans of aches and hiccups intermingled with the tears, and finally as the sorrowful cries waned away into the darkness at the end of the pony's dying lament, did woe give way to anger.

He screamed.

He screamed a harsh scream filled with furious frustration that set fire to the aches of grief within his lungs. Standing up with dangerous impulse, the youth bucked hard against the tree behind him for no other reason than its close proximity to the storm of fury he was kicking up, splintering bark and tearing up an ugly scar across its trunk. He then directed his ire towards the nearby bushes that had scraped and bruised his body during his tumble, running over to them and tugging them out of the ground before angrily throwing them across the clearing.

It was, all in all, a perfect example of a child throwing a tantrum.

And like all tantrums, it accomplished nothing but destruction and heartache, with the tantrum thrower in question standing in the middle of his ruin: exhausted, miserable and alone. Around him, the ravaged clearing was still silent and just as uncaring to the pony's plight as it was before he threw a fit.

As the noise of the rushing, beating thumps of his heart quieted from his ears and his anger-fueled adrenaline cooled out of his veins, the brooding teenager looked over the results of his tirade with exhausted and tear-hardened eyes.

The lone tree in the center of the clearing now bore an ugly gash across its bark.

Clumps of grass were scattered across the ground, having been forcibly kicked up by hooves being purposely dragged across the forest floor.

The uprooted bushes surrounding him were now splattered across the ground like the corpses of a battlefield.

And even a nearby sapling, barely tall enough to reach the teenager's height, had somehow been snapped in half in the ensuing storm of emotion.

Seeing all of this, the young pony sighed.

Picking up the tattered clumps of grass that he'd torn up, he dropped them back on their original spots that they had been growing from and stamped on them with his hoof, evening them back to what they were. The youth then dragged the thrown bushes and stuck their roots back into the holes that they had been ripped from.

Turning to the tree that he had scarred, the youth scanned the forest floor and quickly found the scattered pieces of bark that he had kicked off, all of which were too splintered to be done anything about. With a face barren of any expression but a slight morose frown, the youth turned away from what he could not fix and set his gaze on the snapped sapling. Lifting up the hanging half and trying to align the young tree back into shape, he frowned when all it did was fall and hang off again like the torn limb of a crooked corpse.

Once again, he sighed.

"Sorry," he mumbled out an apology, too morose to really express his regret on his ruination of this young tree.

As if in response to this apology, he promptly got an acorn to the face.

THWACK!

"OW!" cried out the young pony in surprised pain, rubbing his hoof against his sore muzzle as he glanced down at the acorn that had struck him. Staring at the offending oak nut that laid on the ground all innocent-like in its motionlessness, he could not help but scrunch his eyebrows down in confusion, "What the—"

THWACK!

Another acorn smacked the youth in the side of his head, prompting him to cuss out a word that his mother would have surely disapproved of. But since his mother wasn't currently present, the youth was able to promptly skip the usual tongue-lashing and go straight into the search for the offending acorn-thrower, his violet eyes scanning in the direction of where the last acorn was thrown from.

The shadows that clung to the forest trees like loose webbing were still as dark as ever, shrouding his gaze from reaching further into the deeper folds of the cavernous forest that surrounded him, increasing the difficulty of finding anypony. It was only when a nearby bush started rustling that the young pony cast his gaze from the darkness and set it onto the menacingly dancing shrubbery.

"Wh-Who's there!" stuttered loudly the young pony, before gritting his teeth fiercely and spreading his legs out in an offensive pose, "Show yourself!" he demanded.

The rustling bush seemed to shake wilder in response to his demand, its branches and leaves bouncing everywhere in rising crescendo as if it was in the midst of a buffalo war dance on the eve of battle, ready to strike down any offender that dared approach it, when suddenly—

A small rabbit jumped out of the bush.

The teenager blinked once in complete, underwhelming surprise as he stared down at the little critter.

Said little critter stared back up at the pony with its beady, little eyes, its white coat shining brightly with a luminous glow from the moonlight as it twitched its nose curiously at the pony.

Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, the teenager relaxed his stance as he sighed, "Just a rabbit," under his breath. Looking down at the white rabbit, he was half-tempted to ask the little critter if it had been the one throwing the acorns at him this whole time, but given his currently sour outlook from the day's events, he wasn't really in the mood to humor it.

Casting his gaze back out into the forestry depths, the teenager ignored the rabbit in front of him as he returned to his search. Scanning the surrounding treeline, the youth had his ears pricked up and at the ready as he listened intently for any noise that would—

THWACK!

An acorn collided against his jaw.

Snapping his neck downward to where the acorn had come from, the teenager finally came face to face with the perpetual acorn-throwing perpetrator.

Standing there, with a single acorn being casually tossed up and down in its furry, little paws without a care in the world, was none other than the white rabbit with the smuggiest of grins plastered all over its face. Gone was the mask of curious animal innocence that it had first worn when meeting the teenager, now what was unveiled was a sadistically gleeful expression on the rabbit's face, its beady, little eyes revealing only the barest hints of a darker and much more superior intelligence held within.

The youth, upon meeting his acorn-throwing agitator, was of course quite taken aback at this smaller-than-expected reveal and could offer nothing but a short soliloquy of his surprise.

"Wha?" he uttered with eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, his bottom lip hanging open in an intelligent manner quite commonly seen of teenagers.

This stupid expression was promptly THWACKED! off of his face by the acorn that hit him right square between the eyes.

"OW! HEY!" cried out the youth in indignation as he threw a brutally murderous glare at the rabbit; a brutally murderous glare that was usually quite unconvincing when it was so over-frequently used by teenagers such as him, but now, when put under all those bleeding scrapes and from out of those tear-stained eyes, that murderous glare seemed to have quite the hardened edge to it.

Unfortunately, if the teenager was expecting his glare to have some desired effect, this was most assuredly not the case. The white rabbit, when confronted with this glare, just rolled its eyes in unimpressed amusement, before snidely blowing a raspberry at the teenager. It then swiftly turned about and leapt away into the brush; clear, smug accomplishment on its back.

And that should've been that.

That should've been the end of that little debacle with the rabbit. All the youth now had to do was just let the little critter run off into the forest, let it have its childish victory of successfully assaulting him with acorns without suffering any consequences and just let it disappear from his life; let it be the end of that. It would be the smart thing to do, the adult thing to do.

But the teenager wasn't an adult yet, he was young and emotional, and his sufferings of the day had whittled away his patience and had shortened his fuse to the keg of furious anguish he had barreled within him. Already the deep, thumping beats of his heart were once again hammering away at his ears, deafening his thoughts as he leapt into the brush and chased after the conniving rabbit.

"COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE RAT!" shouted the youth as he jumped over the bushes, his violet eyes staying solely focused on the rabbit moving through the foliage ahead of him, whose bright fur beaconed its fleeing form in the dark forest like that of a burning flare in a sea of shadows. But despite its bright coat though, the rabbit was clearly much faster than the young pony could ever hope to achieve and would have easily disappeared out of sight on speed alone if not for the fact that it kept stopping just short of this goal to turn back and hither the riled up youth even more with visibly goading acts.

With the white rabbit always in sight to goad him on, but always out of reach for him to do anything about it, the coerced young pony was self-forced to twist and turn through every obstacle the winding forest had as he stayed on the luminous rabbit's puffy tail.

Around the forest trees the rabbit did run, and so did too the pony.

Across gentle streams and shallow rivers did the rabbit traverse, and so did too the pony.

Over steep hills and rocky steps did the rabbit hop over, and so did too the pony.

Past cavernous dens of sleeping beasts and between the hunting grounds of predators did the rabbit avoid, and so did too the pony.

Through a hollow log did the rabbit enter through one end and come out of another, and so did too the pony.

And down the rabbit-holes did the rabbit not enter, and so neither did the pony. A curious bit of info for the young pony to contemplate if he had not been so hot-tempered to take notice of it. After all, if the rabbit was so obviously not fleeing for escape, then where was it running to, and more importantly, why was it goading the teenage pony to follow?

But the youth did not contemplate this, nor did he even fully realize it, instead he only focused his aim and fury on the rabbit. The forest whizzed by him as he continued to take chase, the shadowy trees around him blurring like blots of ink on paper: becoming more and more unrecognizable as he furthered himself deeper into the forestry depths, into parts unknown to him.

"WILL YOU STOP RUNNING SO I CAN BUCK YOUR FACE IN ALREADY!" shouted the teenager, his voice hoarse from exhaustion.

And then the rabbit did.

The young pony's eyes widened in surprise before he slammed his hooves down into the ground, grinding them against the dirt as he skidded to a stop right in front of the waiting rabbit.

The rabbit was looking up at him with a hard stare, its expression sharply pointed downward with what could only be described as cool anger mixed with disappointment. Holding this glare with the young pony, the rabbit suddenly snapped its paws outward, away from its torso, in a beckoning stance that practically dared the pony to follow up on his word and buck its face in.

"Well, go ahead. Do it," were the unspoken words perforating the space between them.

Sitting there with his dark-coated rump in the skidded dirt, the youth made no motion against the rabbit. Too caught off guard by the rabbit's sudden confrontation, the young pony's lips were parted, revealing a tongue that was too swollen with confusion and trepidation to formulate any sort of response.

"Uhmm..." he uttered out, his tone surprising him by the shaking cracks of nervousness that were carried along with it.

The two continued to stare at each other; the reverberating thumps of the youth's beating heart steadily lessening within his ears as he sat there.

Slowly, a forehoof was raised, trembling and uncertain. Violet eyes glanced toward it with a hollow gaze, before returning back to the little critter before him.

The rabbit's beady glare did not waver.

A moment later and that forehoof dropped back to the ground like the dead weight of a brick.

The youth sighed a deep, truly brooding sigh as his head lowered closer to the forest floor, his white mane casting over his face like a loose cowl; disappointment and other such internal lamentations sorrowing within him. He didn't know whether to be disappointed with himself that he resorted to violence so quickly, or be disappointed that he couldn't muster himself to throw a punch; he just knew to be disappointed with himself.

Suddenly, upon his muzzle, the rabbit's paw patted him comfortingly, breaking him out of his depressing reverie and surprising him greatly. But it wasn't the fact that the rabbit was daring enough to physically touch him that surprised him, nor the fact that it was actually willing to express any comfort at all for his sake that caught him off guard.

What surprised him was that the rabbit was patting his muzzle from atop his head, having somehow jumped up there without his notice.

Hopping off of the youth's head, the rabbit stood in front of the pony, before crossing its paws and giving him a resolute nod, as if expressing both satisfaction and permission for the young pony.

The youth blinked once, confused, "Uhh... thanks?"

The rabbit showed off a smirk, it was a smirk that was accompanied with that same gleeful expression that the young pony had seen on the rabbit back in the clearing; smugness and dark intelligence in all.

And that was when the rabbit ceased to be a rabbit.

Like a bright glare that's on the glass in front of every painting, the luminous sheen of the rabbit's coat inexplicably glowed so much brighter, blurring away the rabbit's features from view until there was nothing left but the little critter's shape. Even then, that too went away quickly as the white, luminous figure of what was once the rabbit soon dissolved and spread out into an amorphous shape of floating light.

Then, like a speck of dust caught up in a sudden gust of wind, the nebulous blot of luminescent light flicked away from the teenager, speeding across the forest floor and out of sight as fast as a shooting star.

"Gah!" yelled out the youth, springing up to his hooves and shambling back away from where the rabbit had once stood. Accordingly shocked to his core, the teenager stood stock frozen with his gaze constantly switching between the spot where the rabbit had previously stood and where the nebulous light of a once rabbit had disappeared deeper into the forest.

Almost disbelieving of what he had just witnessed, the nervous teenager began frantically glancing about the shadows surrounding him with a wary eye, as if in hopes that what he saw was just a trick of the light or something, and that the rabbit was somewhere nearby. Yet as well as the youth could cast his violet eyes, the rabbit's bright coat was nowhere to be seen and the teenager was quick to realize his lonesomeness in that forest.

For a while, the youth stood alone between the shadowy trees, the dark forest around him just as silent as he was still, with the rustling of the tree's branches in the wind contrasting in rhythm to the fearful exertions of his deep, nervous breathing.

Before his beating heart even had the chance to calm its pace from the surprising dilution of rabbit into light, did that very mass of luminescent light suddenly return just as fast as it had left. Back from wherever it had gone, the energetic whiz of light zipped speedily along the ground directly towards the teenager, circling around his hooves a dozen times and nearly scaring the young pony half to death, before finally heading to the base of a nearby tree, where it stopped. As fast as a blink and the mass of luminescent light was a rabbit again, casually leaning a paw on the tree's trunk, that same smug smirk still on its face.

Once again, pony and rabbit stared at each other in heavy silence.

From behind its back, the rabbit pulled out a long carrot and took a bite out of it; chewing loudly and casually, as if it didn't have a care in the world.

And that's when the youth really looked at the rabbit.

The luminous sheen that the young pony thought was just moonlight being reflected off of the rabbit's white coat was most certainly a sheen, but it was most definitely not a reflection. As the rabbit stood in the shade of that tree, still casually eating that carrot in perhaps the most annoyingly loudest manner possible, its coat still shimmered with a luminous glow despite the fact that no ray of light from the lunar orb above was successfully breaching the tree's canopy to even reach the rabbit underneath, let alone have enough exuberance to cause a reflective glow such as what the rabbit was exhibiting.

This rabbit was glowing a luminous glow all on its own!

This rabbit was not made of flesh and blood like most animals of the world, but rather of a thick, physical light that gave it shape!

This was a moon rabbit!

And this frightened the teenager.

"Oh, Celestia's tail!" improperly cussed out the teenager, already not doing himself any favors by swearing the Sun Princess's name during the Sovereignty of the Moon.

The youth knew of the moon rabbits; knew of them from the bedtime stories he had heard straight from his mother's lips and from the cautionary tales that were whispered to him over family campfires; each and every one of them highlighting both the rabbits' guile and trickery.

Descended from the Mare of Kindness's familiar, the fastest and most guile of all his ilk, moon rabbits were well known for their knowledge of the twists and turns of this world, and of the shortcuts to the other worlds that were pocketed in this one. With this knowledge coupled with their enjoyment of playing tricks on ponies lends to the belief that many a moon rabbit will habitually lead and leave a pony into one of these worlds, where all sorts of adventure, hilarity and trauma for the pony tends to abound.

And the teenager had just spent the last half-hour or so chasing such a moon rabbit.

Backing away from the rabbit, the youth's violet eyes switted about the forest's shadows fearfully, his mind running a mile a second as he tried to figure out if he had been tricked into another world or not, and if so, which one.

Had the youth been transported to Discord's Immaterium Void, where the laws of physics were loosened and twisted to suit the chaos deity's random whims, where matter and shape were continuously shifting and appearing in the roaring waves of arcane wind that filled his domain? Doubtful, because if the youth had, he would have undoubtedly already been swept up in the vortex of chaos magic that swirled around the Unchanging Tree that stood in the center of the Void and where under Discord built his home.

Did the moon rabbit trick the youth into falling into the Princess of the Night's Dreamscape? Was this dark forest somepony's nightmare? Was he to be stuck swimming through the ocean bed of stars, traversing through one strange dream after another until the Goddess of the Moon herself finally took notice of his presence and cast him out of her domain and back into his bed? Perhaps, but that nagging feeling in the back of his head that told him that this all was too real to be a dream seemed to say otherwise.

The youth knew in his heart that he had not been led to Tartarus. There were no woods in the bowels of that Hel pit, at least none that were as quiet as the one he was currently standing in. If he had been sent to Tartarus, he would've been immediately greeted by the smell of brimstone and the wailings of the repenting dead, before quickly being accosted by the Underking's wraiths and their orthrus guard dogs, who would have swiftly smelled his living body in that place. Being neither dead nor demonic enough to warrant a stay in the Sticks, the young pony would have been promptly pushed out of the gates in rapid form.

But that's when he remembered Jinx's Mad Woodlands: a world that was entirely composed up of a labyrinthine forest that stretched on endlessly, and where the strange and nonsensical were always found waiting just around the next bend. Founded by the kirin daughter of Discord and the Mare of Laughter, Jinx's realm was the home of madness and loonies. Too paranoid to die and too untrusting of competent, straight-thinking ponies that liked to go to war, Jinx, in her haphazard sovereignty, only allowed the innocently deranged to live in her Woodlands of Madness; whom she oftentimes liked to personally invite herself, which is why it was so common for the staff of insane asylums across all of Equestria to so often not blink an eye whenever a patient 'wanders off.'

That said, despite the "Only creatively unbound permitted" sign that's hanging up on some random tree in her domain somewhere, she does occasionally oh so revel whenever a 'normal' pony sometimes wanders into her kingdom.

Was that it? Had this young pony been tricked into Jinx's kingdom? Had the backwoods of his home been magically melded into the Woodlands of Madness without his notice? Was he to traverse through a forestry maze of loons and ill equines at the entertainment of a mad daughter of Chaos and Laughter? Would he ever be able to return home?

Standing in this dark forest, the youth's legs shook in fear at the prospect that he may have very well been tricked into the Mad Woodlands. Slowly, he started to back away from the moon rabbit before him, fear of his situation driving him to think with instinct rather than logic, and by the ancient equine instinct that still lied within his soul and DNA even after millennium of civilization, he immediately turned and fled.

...Only to slam his head into the tree that was directly behind him, the impact of his face with the hard bark stumbling him onto his back with a pained groan.

Behind him, the moon rabbit looked on the clumsy teen with deadpan eyes, clear disappointment written all over its luminous face as it slapped a paw over its beady eyes in expressed dissatisfaction. Clearly the young pony had assumed it had tricked the overgrown colt into some other world and had panicked because of it. Now the kid was lying there like a half-dead possum, which wasn't going to look good for the moon rabbit when she arrived soon.

Sometimes it wasn't easy being a familiar.

"...Uhhh," moaned out the young pony as he lied on his back, his head throbbing in pain from the fall. Blearily opening his eyes, he found that his vision had already blurred to a distasteful degree, with darkness quickly encroaching on the rest of his sight. Perhaps it was just his collision with the tree, but after a long night of physical and mental trauma, the exhaustion of his body was taking a toll on his mind, and sleep seemed much more welcoming now as his eyelids grew increasingly heavier.

"Oh my goodness! Um, excuse me, but are you alright?"

But just before the darkness in his eyes dragged him into his welcoming slumber did the softest of voices he had ever heard in his entire life exclaim out for his well being, with the warmest pair of blue eyes he had ever seen looking down on him and piercing through the blurriness of his own violets.

It was at that moment that he then slipped into unconsciousness.

"Oh dear..."

Author's Note

The moon rabbit is a popular character in Mesoamerican and East Asian folklore, which originates from how the darker markings of our own moon seem to take the shape of a rabbit pounding in a mortar and pestle.

The rabbit is also commonly seen as a trickster animal that likes to outsmart its predators and unfortunate humans, i.e. the Br'er Rabbit and Bugs Bunny (remember the carrot:trollestia:).

The ability to travel to pocket worlds is there because references to Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland are mandatory to all things literature.

The Mare of Kindness

"Steelwork..."

"Hey, Steel, it's time to wake up..."

"C'mon, bro, get your butt out of bed already. Ma can't work the lumber mill herself, y'know?"

"Hmm? No, I'm actually Griffonia's Emperor of the Northern Wind, here to lay claim to this land and spread the word of the bird—of course it's me! Now hurry up and—Agh! Hey! Get off of me!"

"Jeez, calm down..."

"Where was I? I was at the academy; had to stay overnight for a team exercise. Why? What's got you so excited that you need to jump on me like I'm your own personal trampoline?

"You need to show me something? What do you—"

"....Well buck me sideways! You've got your mark! AH HA HA HA! So the Three Crusaders finally decided to buck a brand on your rear end, eh? 'Bout time, I'd say! Your bare backside was really becoming an eyesore; glad you've finally got something to cover it up and spare us all the sight of it. So when was this? Was this while I was at the academy? And how'd you even get it? C'mon, bro, spill!"

"..."

"Pfft—AHAHAHA! FLOWER-ARRANGING! HA HA! THAT'S ADORABLE! HA HA—OW! Hey! Hey! I'm just joshing ya! So wipe that sour look off your face! I know those flowers were for the memorial, which makes it the most masculine of flower-arranging. So don't act so defensive 'cause you didn't get your mark while doing something amazing. Alright? ...Alright."

"So... a laurel wreath, eh? Do you know what it means? And more importantly, does this mean that you've finally decided on what you're gonna do with your life? Because if so, please, share, because I'd love to know what beat out the twenty-five-something prior careers that you were just sooo dead set on."

"..."

"Oh..."

"—No, no! It's fine! It's a great path to go on and I'm very proud of you and everything."

"It's just that..."

"Mom's gonna be really lonely here at home if both of her boys are off marching in the military, ya know?"

"..."

"Well anyways... mark or no mark, you've still gotta wake up."

"So c'mon, bro, wake up..."

"Wake up..."

"There's a certain Mare you have to talk to..."

Warmth surrounded him.

Like that of a dense fog hugging the surface of a warm lagoon did the young pony known as Steelwork emerge out of the starry sea of dreams that were his slumber, only to be enveloped by the bask of warmth and comfort that culled his desire to open his eyes. Such warmth beckoned him back into the depths of the Moon Princess's domain with invitation more enticing than even those of his foalhood embraces with his mother when he suckled from her teat.

With great effort, the young pony's eyelids lifted upward ever so slightly to beholden a sight so blurred by his dreariness that all he could make out was the color of butterscotch. As his head and muzzle rested upon the softest fur he had ever experienced in his life, that when put in comparison would make cloud-made pillows seem as rough as bedrock, the blaring light of the sun was shielded from him bar a few streams of light by the comfort of gentle feathers that blanketed his form.

The butterscotch body of warmth that he rested upon shifted slightly, and the warm wings over him hugged him closer to that warmth.

The teenage pony's eyelids fell, and this lulling embrace of warmth and comfort let him slip back into the rolling waves of the sea of dreams.

"DO I HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF, CADET!?"

"WHEN A SUPERIOR OFFICER TELLS YOU TO JUMP, YOU JUMP AND PRAY TO THE SWEET MARES OF HARMONY THAT YOU JUMPED HIGH ENOUGH TO MEET THEIR STANDARDS!"

"SO WHEN I TELL YOU TO WAKE UP, I FULLY EXPECT YOU TO LEAP UP INTO THE AIR AND SHOUT—"

"I'm awake, sir!" shouted out Steelwork with a slight twinge of panic in his voice as he sprung up straight into a sitting position; the dirt and gravel under him scratching at his rear end as he opened his eyes to find himself in a blurry cave, with an even blurrier entrance to this cave gaping open directly in front of him. Where beyond details of the outside world could not be made out because of said blurriness.

Raising up a hoof to rub out the obscuring gunk in his eyes, the young, teenage pony of black coat and white mane looked about his surroundings in confusion, his drowsy mind doing its best to wonder how in Equestria he had ended up in an unknown cave that he knew not where.

But before any conclusion could be begotten from this wondering did suddenly a claw of thick fur immediately wrap around his rigid form and pull the young Steelwork back into the mass of dark fuzz that he had previously been resting on.

Which just so happened to take the shape of a large black bear.

"Eep!" eeped out Steelwork in probably a much more high-pitched tone than he would have liked to admit as he found himself forcibly snuggled into the neck of a snoring bear, whose every grunt of slumber revealed rows of sharp teeth. How ironic it was, that he as a young foal used to snuggle a teddy bear of his own in his sleep, to now find himself in a mirrored situation with the roles reversed.

Trapped between a bear and a hard place, Steelwork's eyes dashed around the interior of the cave in hopes of finding some solution for him to escape out of the bear's grasp. But alas it was a hopeless endeavor; there was nothing for him to use and attempting to struggle out of the bear's grasp risked waking the large beast. It seemed that his only chance for freedom now was to pray and wait for the black bear to toss and turn in its sleep, and hope that it released him during so.

But such an opportunity of escape had no need of presenting itself anytime soon, for it was now that another and much more annoying opportunity arrived.

Pistoning through the cave's entrance as a mass of luminescent light arrived the moon rabbit. Who now stood before the sleeping bear and snuggled pony with a raised eyebrow on its slightly grumpy expression.

Steelwork stared at the rabbit.

The rabbit stared back.

Next to him, the bear let out a loud snore.

The moon rabbit then swiftly pulled out a leafy stick from behind its back; brandishing it as a devious smile grew on the rabbit's face.

Steelwork's eyes widened in terror, 'Oh sweet, merciful Celestia—'

*THWACK!* Went nature's wooden finger against the face of the innocently snoozing bear.

And the bear immediately sprung up on its hind legs with a ferocious roar escaping out of its maw, "UURRAAUUGH!" it screamed out as the powerful roar reverberated off of the cavern walls. Now rudely awaken and with a stinging sensation across its wet nose, this towering beast of predatory muscle and bulk gazed down at whomever it was that dared walk into its home and awake the sleeping giant.

Eyes that were boiling with anger came to rest on the minuscule moon rabbit, whose paws were crossed as it returned an equally fierce glare back at the large bear while its foot repeatedly thumped the ground in an impatient manner.

Seeing that it had the bear's attention, the moon rabbit snapped a paw at the larger animal's chest.

Looking down, the bear was only slightly surprised to find the young Steelwork within its grip, who, having been forcibly taken along with in the bear's sudden and swift vertical rise, was quite glad that his bladder had already been emptied some time ago. If he hadn't, then this whole thing would have turned into a much more stickier situation for him then it already currently was.

With a candid snort, the bear released the young stallion from its grip, allowing the pony to fall to the cave floor like an unwanted bag of groceries.

"Oomph!" grunted out Steelwork in repercussion to this unwantedness as he harshly landed on his tailside. This rough landing of his rear-end though was far from his current worries, as now that he was out of the bear's grasp, he immediately took this opportunity to swiftly distance himself from the large predator. Finding himself behind the moon rabbit, Steelwork gazed back at the bear, fearful of what the rudely awaken animal was going to do now.

The bear though paid the young pony no mind as it stretched out its paws with a great, mighty yawn. It then promptly collapsed back onto the cavern floor, its head tucked under its furry arms as it pointedly ignored the small intruders within its home.

"Snuurk..." loudly snored the bear, somehow achieving deep slumber instantly to what would be the immeasurable envy of insomniacs across the world over if they had witnessed it.

Steelwork though just breathed out a sigh of relief in seeing that the bear wasn't going to maul him to bloody pieces for interrupting what was no doubt the midst of a well-deserved nap.

The moon rabbit leaped up and grabbed a hold of Steelworks left ear, pulling it down and dragging the young stallion's head along with it as gravity did its magic on the moon rabbit's return journey to the ground.

"Ow!" grunted out Steelwork in irritation as his ear was pulled, before giving the moon rabbit a look of annoyance.

But the moon rabbit payed no mind to the young pony's irritation, casually dismissing it as a snooty, high-class waiter would do to the presence of a homeless pony. Instead, the moon rabbit simply beckoned the pony to follow it once again as it began hopping over to the cave's entrance.

After a moment's hesitation, Steelwork did indeed follow after the rabbit. Not that he had any other choice, really. He sure as Tartarus wasn't going to willingly stay in the bear's cave, that's for sure.

So through the cave's entrance did Steelwork go, the loud snores of the dozing bear reverberating off of the cavern walls behind him as he followed the luminous tail of the moon rabbit and out into the daytime shine. With a hoof over his eyes to shield himself from the glaring light of the rising sun, Steelwork found himself once again under the forest's roof of branches and leaves that he was so familiar with.

Except he wasn't at all familiar with this setting. He did not recognize any of these trees that surrounded him, these trees that seemed so much sparser from each other than the ones near his home

What was even more distressing was the warmth of the low sun on Steelwork's dark coat that signaled the arrival of the morning day. It had been the middle of the night when he fell into unconsciousness... hadn't it? It was hard to remember what the exact time was after his... episode. However long it was, the fact that it was now morning meant that he had been gone from home for an entire night. His mother would no doubt be worried to tears that he'd been gone so long. While this wouldn't be the first time he'd spent an entire night in the forest alone, considering how he left and the news that they had just received...

He needed to get home, now. For his mother's sake.

The only problem to this was that he had no idea where he was.

But he might know someone who does.

"I need to get home," spoke up Steelwork as he followed behind the bouncing moon rabbit moving though the forest, whose glowing body was now like a bright glare of light within the sun's rays.

The moon rabbit did not stop its lazy hopping, but it did angle its head slightly for one of its beady eyes to give Steelwork a look.

"Please, I know you can understand me," continued Steelwork, "I mean, if you can magically turn into a ball of light, then understanding what us lowly equines are saying shouldn't be a problem for you. I just want to get home so my mom doesn't have to worry."

The moon rabbit stopped its hopping and turned about to face the young pony, a gruff expression on its nose. And then, in its ever silent manner, the rabbit pointed a paw at Steelwork's side.

Steelwork directed his gaze over his body to find a wrapping of gauze tied around his torso. A detail he had missed this entire time. If he remembered correctly, he had surmounted a considerable number of scrapes and bruises on his nightly tumble through the forest, with a particularly nasty gash that had left him with an annoying stinging sensation in his side.

It seemed that he had been thoroughly cleaned up during his impromptu time spent in the Moon Princess's domain. In fact, besides some traces of dirt he had received during the debacle with the bear, all of the mud and twigs that had been stuck to his body from the night before were completely gone. Strangely enough, even all of the scrapes and cuts on his body seemed to have been completely healed, with nary a bandage or a scar to indicate that they had ever been there in the first place.

And that's when it hit Steelwork as memories of gentle eyes flashed to the forefront of his mind.

"You're taking me to the pony that healed me," realized Steelwork.

In answer, the moon rabbit hopped up and gave the young stallion a light bop on the nose.

Slightly startled at this, Steelwork rubbed his nose, "Okay... I guess I'm 'right on the nose' on that one," he mumbled to himself, before addressing the moon rabbit once again, "So who is he—or she? Will they lead me home? In fact, what are they even doing in this forest? Closest town is over thirty miles away. Are they hikers or explorers or something?"

The moon rabbit stared at Steelwork with furrowed brows and a disappointed expression that seemed to visually ask, 'Have you seriously not figured out who it is yet? Like... seriously?'

Steelwork rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Right, what am I doing? It's not like you can answer any of my questions anyhow. You're a rabbit," said Steelwork sheepishly as he completely missed the meaning of the moon rabbit's visual cues.

In response to this, luminous paw commenced collision with disappointed rabbit face.

That is to say the moon rabbit face-palmed itself with a greater magnitude of disappointment than that felt by a particularly legendary sea captain who had to regularly deal with the antics of Discord on his many enterprising voyages.

Wordlessly, the moon rabbit turned about and began hopping away without even checking to see if Steelwork was following.

Tailing the peeved mystical rabbit, Steelwork trotted along in silence.

"So..." began Steelwork again, "are you like this pony's pet or something..."

The moon rabbit picked up an acorn.

Steelwork wisely decided to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the trek through the forest.

Following the rabbit through the shade of the sparse canopy, it was not long before the young stallion was led to beautiful grove of open sky. Here he was greeted with a rainbow of floral colors that stretched out before him like an aurora born of the land; a field of beautiful flowers that grew so vibrantly in the light of the rising sun. At the far end of this colorful clearing of petals and stems was a natural pool of water that glimmered in the rays of daylight. Formed by the low waterfall that hanged over the short rise of land, gentle streams flowed out of the pool in slithering patterns across the field and deep into the depths of the forest.

It was, to Steelwork, one of the most serene sights he had ever bared witness to in his entire life.

Or at least it would be, if it weren't for the massive gathering of animals that were currently inhabiting it.

Racoons, foxes, badgers, squirrels, rabbits—not those of light and magic, but of regular fur and flesh—they were all gathered together in the field of tulips and lilies. Among them were also the larger predators that were wolves and cougars, with each of the carnivorous animals incurring no fear in their prey as they meandered about near them. Even the songbirds and swans that were fluttering about were not afraid to place themselves on the ground near so many animals.

For somepony that was very much aware of the workings of the animal kingdom within the forest, this was, all in all, a very unusual sight for Steelwork. To see so many animals in one place, to see so many predators and prey near each other without conflict, it honestly baffled him.

"What the... how? What is going on?" pondered aloud Steelwork as he followed the moon rabbit into the mishmash collection of animals. He had never seen anything like this before. Animals don't just forget about their instincts or pretend that their place in the food-chain is no longer relevant. And yet here they were, with racoons bounding by resting wolves without danger while other such prey-and-predator relationships were being so casually dismissed around him.

But it was soon that the question of why these animals were so peaceful around each other was swiftly flung to the back of Steelwork's mind and forgotten as a new question took its place. For however much peace there was in this field of lilies and tulips, why did the young pony's presence seem to disturb it?

As Steelwork trotted through the field of lilies and tulips, the animals around him reacted with an overall air of distrust and wariness. Squirrels darted through beds of flowers at his approach, the small songbirds fluttered away into the air when his hooves neared, and even a badger hissed threateningly at him.

Trepidation grew within Steelwork as he ventured further into this horde of animals, culminating into a real fear when a cougar suddenly snarled at him and levied him with a hunter's glare. Terrified, the young stallion was stricken still as the feline predator slowly approached him. He knew that if he ran, the cougar would chase him; though it didn't seem that standing still was doing him any favors either.

Luckily for him, he had a 'guardian angel' of sorts who was once again going to save his behind.

Before the cougar could take another step closer to Steelwork did a flash of luminous light climb up his neck and place the moon rabbit on top of the young pony's head. He wasn't able to see it, but Steelwork could practically feel the glare that the moon rabbit was dishing out to the cougar by sheer proximity of it. Unlike the black bear back in the cave though, it did not seem that whatever authority that the rabbit seemed to have in this forest was going to cut it this time as the cougar wasn't backing down from the bunny's ire.

Stuck in this awkward tension between a cougar and a rabbit, Steelwork could only wonder how he kept up ending in situations like this.

"Meow?" came the quiet mewl originating from below.

Steelwork glanced down at the patch of tulips he was standing in, and there, sitting right between his forelegs, was a mountain lion cub, looking up at him with an innocent curiosity; head cocked to the side and everything.

'Oh.'

"I'm sorry," spoke up Steelwork, eyes locked with the mother cougar's as he slowly backed away from the cub, "I didn't mean to get between you and your cub."

The little mountain lion cub moved to follow after the funny-looking hooved animal with the moon rabbit on top of its head, but the cub was quickly nabbed by its mother, who carried off the young feline by the nape of its neck in her mouth.

Breathing a sigh of relief at seeing the cougar leave him be, Steelwork glanced up appreciatively at the moon rabbit atop his head, "Thanks," he said.

The luminous and not-at-all-prideful moon rabbit leapt off of Steelwork's head, taking the time to ostentatiously wipe away the invisible dirt and dust that had accumulated in the confrontation, before turning around to give the young pony a gruff look that expressly made clear that he had better appreciate all that he had to do for the overgrown brat. The moon rabbit then turned about and hopped over to the pool of water, with Steelwork following closely behind.

When the rabbit and pony reached the bank of the pool, Steelwork found that there was a trail of flat stepping stones rising out just above the surface of the water. Each of these steps were as wide as Steelwork was tall and together they all led to the waterfall.

The moon rabbit hopped onto the first stone, then the next, bounding to each one like they were a forgotten trail of footfalls left behind in the snow. After a moment's hesitation, Steelwork followed after and jumped onto the first stone, slightly relieved that the stone was stable enough for his weight and that it didn't weeble-wobble back into the water. He jumped to the next and continued onward after the rabbit.

Half-way across the pool, Steelwork suddenly stopped in his tracks, his eyes focusing on the waterfall before him.

The waterfall wasn't like those huge torrents of gushing water that careened off of the side of a mountain. It was smaller, only a few meters high, and its waters flowed over the incline of land like aqua curtains draped over a mantle piece. Behind it was a cave that was no doubt dank and mossy from the falling water. The orange illumination of candles and lanterns behind the waterfall's curtain revealed a hidden shrine of wood and stone in the shape of an equine; most likely devoted to the guardian spirit of the forest.

...And tending to this shrine was the figure of a lithe pegasus of yellow butterscotch color, blurred only from a perfect view by the cascade of the waterfall.

On the last stepping stone before the waterfall, where the air was thick with flying droplets and mist, the moon rabbit condensed into a ball of luminous light and zipped through the watery curtain; appearing next to the pegasus and gaining her attention. Steelwork could see through the blurry curtain of water the moon rabbit hopping up and down and pointing in his direction.

The butterscotch figure turned her head towards the young stallion.

A moment's wait later and a wing emerged through the waterfall, dividing the water like that of a slanted roof in the rain and creating an opening for the butterscotch pegasus to duck under as she stepped into the twilight morning.

And Steelwork finally came face to face with those warm eyes of blue once again.

The mare before him was like all of the serene beauties of nature given equine form: with a supple body of a yellow butterscotch coat and a pair of swan-like wings of similar color, her every movement was as gentle and as graceful as the petals of a flower blowing in the wind. Her slender form, taller than what most mares usually achieved, was like a natural-born runway model become a mother: all of the lithe fitness of a beautiful mare combined with the pleasant aura of doting compassion.

Her mane and tail were a floral pink as vibrant as the scattering blossoms of a cherry tree, and curtained over her form like the hanging leaves of a willow tree. So in-tuned with nature was this mare that from out of the folds of her mane and tail bloomed flowers of lilies and daffodils, growing from her hair as naturally as a flowerbed does from soil. Across her form, vines of green leaves encircled up her legs and all the way up to her mark of fluttering butterflies.

This beautiful nymph of the forest turned her head, parting her floral mane to reveal a face of purity—not of innocent purity, but that of indomitable goodness. Her soft, youthful features seemed to be permanently etched with a compassionate empathy for those around her, and her large, blue eyes were filled with so much warmth and motherly comfort that it was practically impossible for one to not feel safe around this kind mare.

And what a kind mare this was, for this was none other than the Mare of Kindness herself; the tutelary patron of compassion and empathy, standing before Steelwork under that waterfall like the beautiful angel she was.

Her warm eyes gazed upon the young stallion in front of her, slight surprise in those blues at the sight of him before quickly being filled with pleasant delightfulness as a gentle smile graced her expression, "Oh, hello there," she greeted, her voice as soft as a warm breeze, "I'm glad to see you're awake."

With a small jump and an outstretching of her wet wings, she glided to the flat stepping stone in front of Steelwork. Landing, she looked over his form keenly, "You've healed up quite nicely, I see. Most of your cuts and bruises from last night are gone, though I'll have to look under the gauze to see how that nasty cut fared. Hopefully you've learned your lesson about running through the forest in the dark."

Steelwork didn't say anything.

After a moment's pause of silence, the Gentle Mare continued on, "Um... I hope you weren't startled waking up next to Mrs. Grizzly. I needed to check on the shrine and I didn't want to move you too much while you were unconscious, so I left you in the care of Mrs. Grizzly. I know her to be very protective of young and I knew that I could trust her to keep you safe from..." she hesitated, the right words forming in her head, "...from the dangers of the forest."

Once again, Steelwork said nothing.

The Mare of Kindness stood there, her smile faltering as the young stallion's silence continued; the lack of response more deafening than the splashing sounds of the waterfall behind her. Awkwardly, she began rapping her hoof against the flat stepping stone, before her face perked up in realization, "Oh! I'm sorry. I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm—"

"—Fluttershy," Steelwork choked out, his head downcast as his alabaster mane covered his eyes, "You're Fluttershy, the Mare of Kindness. ...I know who you are."

The Mare of Kindness hesitated, slightly taken aback at his sudden interruption, but then her warm eyes cooled into sorrowful recognition and she slowly let out a resigned sigh. "Oh," she said without doubt, before turning her head away from the young stallion to rest her gaze on the morning sun's shimmering reflection in the pool surrounding them, "...So you must be Steelwork then."

"I am," answered Steelwork, raising his head up so that his red, tearful eyes could look at the Mare of Kindness fully.

"And you're who my brother gave his life defending."

Author's Note

Hey, guys! Remember back in Living Forever... when I described Fluttershy's mane as being floral pink?

...And no one caught the hint. :trollestia:

Also, I get satisfaction from the frustration of my readers when I torture them with a good cliffhanger.

Don't forget to leave a comment.

Serenity in the Mountains

Across miles upon miles of a white, misty sea, mountain-peaked islands dotted across a sun-kissed horizon that sat under an empty blue sky. With barren rock covered in layers of thick snow and lacking any sort of shores, these mountainous islands were clustered close together across the cloudy sea like an archipelago in the sky, their peaks rising high out of the raging blizzard that enshrouded the rest of the land below with a white haze of blistering winds, where under the densely-packed labyrinth of mountain ranges that comprised the Eastern Mountains could be found.

Deep within this labyrinthine range of towering peaks that were over-flooded with the suffocating cold of the blizzard wind, there was a grand temple built into the side of one of the range's taller mountains. Like a bird's nest in the crook of a tree-branch, this temple of fine red wood and golden-etched carvings was nestled securely within the crevice of the mountain's ledge, weathering the blizzard that raged against it like a galloping wendigo—just as it's done against all blizzards for centuries past.

Within the confines of the temple, an orchestra of candles could be found dancing along the walls, their exuberant, little flames spectacularly fighting against the interior darkness just as well as the racketing walls battled to keep the harsh winds outside. Despite this constant and violent struggle against the forces of nature, the old temple exuded nothing but serenity from out of its woodwork; its isolation from the rest of the world allowing it to be a place of conjuring of thought and introspection for the soul.

But now the temple rang hollow, the hammering blizzard against the wooden walls echoing throughout the interior without opposition: the occupants of this temple's school of thought gone and long away from roaming these halls.

Now only a teacher remained.

Inside the temple's entrance, where its walls and four center columns were completely engraved with grand colors of repeating patterns, where golden statuettes eternally posed in the corners of the chamber, and where fine tapestries of color hung from the ceiling, there sitting alone in the center of the chamber was a llama. He was a very old llama, with fur mottled grey and a face so wrinkly that it was a wonder how he could see at all from behind the flabs of skin that drooped over his eyes—the bushy eyebrows so common of llamas not helping one bit. Draped in a crimson and yellow robe, the old llama was positioned comfortably over a pool of sand; a small, wooden, rake-like brush in his muzzle that he used to trace through the particles of sand, trails of flowing waves being left behind in the sand as he did so.

Setting his wooden tool down next to him, done with the finer details of his work, the old llama looked over his efforts.

In addition to the jagged lines of rocks and the explosive sprays of foam, the flowing trails in the pool of sand all added up to a beautiful image of waves, frozen in time as they crashed against a rocky shoreline in spectacular display.

The corners of the old llama's mouth curved upward in a smile, glad to have finally finished his work.

Suddenly, without moving his head, one of the llama's ears swiveled in the direction of the massive doors that served as the temple's grand entrance, and he quickly realized that he had finished his work just in time too, before the inevitable happened.

At the temple's entrance-way, the massive, colorfully-engraved wooden doors that towered all the way to the temple's ceiling unexpectedly burst wide open, inviting in the blizzard like a rowdy guest. Clumps of snow poured onto the floor as the cold wind sailed deeper into the temple, its chilling indifference to the lives of others flapping the llama's robes wildly and kicking up tufts of sand within the sediment pool as it passed by.

Swiftly following behind the blizzard's rude entry came a robed equine that appeared out of the white haze of snow outside, completely wrapped up in a thick cloak that was weathered by the harsh winds. Looking around and quickly seeing how much trouble the blizzard's rowdy behavior was causing, the cloaked equine promptly rushed to close the massive doors behind him, their loud groans of old age creaking out of their hinges and echoing throughout the temple halls as they were slowly forced shut by the equine.

When the doors were finally sealed closed again and the blizzard thrown out like a drunken lout, the old llama glanced down to find that the drawing in the sand had all but disappeared in the wind.

But the old llama was not at all perturbed by this sudden development, not at all distraught at his hours of work gone in a second, instead he just picked up another of his wooden tools—larger and placed between his forelegs—and set about again on the sand, that same content smile from before still on his face.

As the old llama worked, the clanging of metal and the clacking of hooves approached him, before stopping on the opposite side of the pool of sand to reveal the cloaked pony in weathered layers of brown cloth. Sitting down on his haunches, the pony removed his hood to reveal a young stallion, black of coat and wearing a gold-colored helmet that covered his mane. Silently, with violet eyes, the pony watched the llama work.

Concentrating on crafting the sand before him, the elderly llama did not spare a moment to greet his guest.

Without a word, the armored stallion sat patiently.

Outside, the brushing of the blizzard winds against the temple walls echoed around them.

"...So," finally spoke up the old llama in a calm voice that creaked with age, not once ceasing in his work, "...she's on her way then."

Across the pool of sand, the young stallion sat with his back straight in attentive readiness, before giving a curt nod of his head toward the old llama, "Yes," he answered.

For a moment, the elderly llama made no indication that he had heard the stallion's response. He only kept silently working at the sand, his attention solely focused on the flowing shapes and trails he was crafting in the loose sediment, before finally...

"And she sent you to keep me company until then," stated the wise, old llama, his tone making it clear that he was not asking a question.

Regardless, the stallion gave his answer anyways with a short nod, "She did."

The wood trailing in the pool of sand paused in its work.

Staring silently down at the pool of still sand, the corners of the elderly llama's lips twitched just a bit higher, "That Mare..." he uttered under his breath with a tone of pleasant unsurprise, fond memories flowing out of those two words as he once again resumed his efforts in expertly shaping the sand.

As the old llama worked, the young stallion glanced around at the empty temple he was in; his eyes drifting over the flapping tapestries that hanged from the ceiling, the shining gold statuettes of long-gone llamas of the past, and of the multitude number of candles along the walls that the stallion was slowly realizing must have been all lit by the lone, elderly llama before him, "Where is everypony?" he asked, turning his attention back to said llama.

"Gone," answered the old llama curtly, before further elaborating in a sagely tone "I sent all my old students off on a quest to find the undiscovered Scrolls of Experience."

Blinking once, the stallion scrunched his eyebrows down in confusion, "The Scrolls of Experience?" he pondered aloud, "What are those?"

Creaky chuckles danced across the pool of sand, hints of amused hysteria on its heels, "Nothing! Made it up on the spot when they asked," answered the old llama, a big smile stretching the aged fur on his face, "I just wanted them off the mountain so I could kick the bucket in peace. Thought I might as well trick them to stop wasting their lives in these walls and get them to go out and experience more of life while I was at it," he cackled humorously, elderly amusement filling the air, "but don't worry, they're a smart bunch. I'm sure they'll figure it out ...eventually" he paused, before shrugging indifferently, "...or not. Either way, I'm sure at the end of this they'll all have Scrolls of Experience of their own that they can use to teach their own students with."

A small military smirk grew on the young stallion's muzzle as he heard the elder's words, familiarity of the old llama's methods tickling his funny bone, "You'd give the Mare of Laughter a run for her bits."

Chuckling the only way that a wise, old sage could, the elderly llama nodded in agreement, "She always was a better teacher than she liked to let on." When his chuckling let up, the old llama raised his head up to the young stallion, "...Speaking of teachers, how's yours?"

The young stallion met the old lama's gaze, "She's kind," he answered with complete seriousness.

Wise, elderly llamas apparently loved to chuckle sagely when given the chance, "Indeed," chuckled the old llama, amused, "but what about you? How did you end up as one of hers?"

Violet eyes flickered away before quickly returning back to the old llama, "...By learning to be kind," the stallion answered just as seriously as before.

The wood trailing in the pool of sand once again paused in its work.

"Oh, come now, don't disappoint her," spoke the llama as he stared directly at the young stallion, a hint of sternness in his tone, the same type of sternness that teachers explicitly saved for students that they know aren't giving their best, "out of all of her retinue, she specifically asked you to come up here and keep me company," he returned his attention back to the sand, once again focused on tracing beautiful art from out of the lowly particles of earth, "...and I'm sure she's made mention of the type of stories that I enjoy listening to."

Sighing, the young stallion removed his helmet and set it on the floor next to him, revealing his white mane that contrasted sharply with his dark coat. Rubbing a hoof through his mane, he made contact with the growth of green vines and bright buds that grew out from between his strands of hair.

"Well," started the stallion, his violet eyes far away, "I suppose it began when my mother received a letter of condolence from the Equestrian Guard..."

Author's Note

And so we come to Kindness's installment. This is the first main installment in the Tutelary Spirit universe in which I'm writing with a multi-chapter format in mind, so hopefully it goes well. Also, where the Guardian of the Elements was about seventy-five percent of the way done when I started posting it, Strength Grown from Kindness is just getting started, so updates will probably take a bit longer to arrive than what you are currently seeing with the Guardian's—though definitely a lot more faster than my previous update pace.