Three Friends

Chapters

Prologue
chapter 1 Loading World
chapter 2 Crimson Flame
chapter 3 Brewstand
chapter 4 Tycoon
chapter 5 Of Mice And Mages
chapter 6 Lost Forest
chapter 7 Rhyme Time
Chapter 08 Meet 'n' Greet
chapter 9 Quietude and Paranoia
chapter 10 Night of the First Day

Prologue

“Are you seriously still using that Slenderman skin?” Hunter asked, as he refilled his cauldron. The young warlock having botched his latest recipe. Unbeknownst to his friend, he was trying to formulate a basic potion that would turn one’s skin blue, but for some reason Lapis Lazuli was having a rather... different effect.

“Heck yeah I am using it, don’t mess with a classic. Plus then I would have to change my name and I am not ditching this name.” Codename Slendy said as he spawned another pig in a minecart as it went in circles around the track, which easily amused him.

Hunter sighed as he put his ingredients away, looking for more inspiration. “I know there’s more mods in this pack, why don’t we find something else to do? I wanna put some of these potions to use.”

“I know but this is entertaining enough for now, I wonder how many pigs I could spawn before the game crashes or the server reaches maximum npcs.” Slendy wondered aloud.

“Roughly a few billion, assuming they’re all loaded. Half that if they have their own individual minecart.” Hunter replied as he looked through his various chests full of plants, animal parts, and all varieties of odd sundries.

He was getting tired of hearing the constant oinking and minecarts on rails, his next goal was to brew a tincture that could deafen the sound of something. Extra mandrake combined with a fermented spiders eye seemed like it would work, but alas all he managed to do was create a lot of smoke.

Sitting down and thinking was difficult for the young witch. Another thing he found obnoxious was how his friend kept referring to him as a ‘warlock’. Warlocks didn’t have the wherewithal to truly use nature to craft miracles like he hoped to. Still, it was tolerable. What wasn’t tolerable...

Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity-

Was the constant sound of the minecarts. The pigs would be so much better if Slendy would use more variety; like, spawn a few wolves. Hunter was low on Tongue of Dog as usual. But Slendy just did whatever he wanted.

‘I’ve had it up to here with these darned pigs of his... maybe... hmmm...’ Looking back to his cauldron, he began devising a solution. He couldn’t very-well kill the pigs, more would just be spawned in their stead.

But he could stop the movement of the minecarts at least. That would give him some peace of mind for a while. Heading over to his spinning wheel he wove several bands of string together into a spiders’ web, the magical properties of the spinning wheel itself allowing for a very sticky web, despite the string having been grown from cotton. Weaving the web with more string he reinforced his creation. A much denser, stickier web. This would be perfect for what he had planned.

Sighing, he got up and headed back to his ingredients. “Let’s see, I’m going to need a few things.” He muttered to himself as he often did while absorbed in his work. “Some nether wart to start with... the webbing, some gunpowder...”

As Hunter worked, Slendy turned to face him “Hey, look, now there’s two pigs in minecarts on the track!” He said happily.

“Your skill at pushing a button connected to a command block for the second time is... inspiring.” Hunter said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. He walked over to his cauldron, and under the shade of his favored large hawthorne tree, he began brewing, placing his ingredients into the large, boiling pot. “Wood ash, a few cocoa beans... hmmm... I can’t get to the spirit world yet, so no wispy cotton...” Lamenting his lack of the perfect final ingredient, he bottled the brew getting only a single bottle worth of potion from the entire brew. He really needed to expand his horizons as a witch before he could improve his bottling technique. A seer stone would help with that. That should be his next project, he decided.

But for the meantime... he held the flask of his most recent creation in his hand.

“Hey look, I’m in a minecart now too!” Slendy said as he and the two pigs went in circles around the small track.

Hunter sighed, and returned his gaze to the potion. Yes, this would be sufficient. Or would it. Perhaps if he made a hardening agent...

“Hey is it me or is it a little updog in here?” Slendy asked.

Hunter groaned. “I’m gonna get this over with now.” Walking over to where the track was, he sat down on the ground, watching his friend and the pigs go around and around with no sign of stopping. “Fine. What’s updog?”

“I don’t know, what’s up with you?” Slendy remarked happily, finally getting someone in on his joke, even if they knew about it.

“You know what else is ‘up’?” Hunter asked, his expression changing to one of devious mischief.

“Political unrest in the middle east?” Slendy asked.

“That too...” Hunter sighed, the action removing any trace of his impish intentions. “Hey, I got something to show you.” He said slowly.

“Oooo what is it? Is it a muffin?” Slendy asked as he hopped out of his minecart.

“Nope. I call it ‘incentive’.” At the last word, Hunter tossed the potion at the tracks and a giant morass of webs sprouted from the liquid and halted the movement of all the minecarts, the webs expanding out far enough to cover most of the track. Cutting them all down would definitely be a two-person job, and with the command block in the midst of the webbing, removing the webs with code would take just as much time to do should one decide to simply try and walk through the webs.

“Aww, why’d you go and do that? I was having fun.” Slendy pouted.

“Well, I have a request that doesn’t involve pigs, minecarts, or... fooling around. I need a Quartz Sphere and you’re going to help me.”

“Fine, what do you need me to do?” Slendy asked still a bit miffed that his pigs are now halted by webs.

“Well, for starters, I need to get some Nether Quartz. Sixteen samples to be exact. I don’t have many potions of fire resistance, so being in the nether is going to be dangerous without armor of any kind. These robes of mine are not made for combat.” Hunter looked across the base. “But, even before that, we’ll need to find a way to the nether.”

“Want me to just spawn one in? I’ve gotten pretty good with the command block as of late.” Slendy suggested.

“I’d rather earn my accomplishments, besides. Do you even know the coded name for the Quartz Sphere? Or, past that, the ID and metadata?”

“Uh, no.” Slendy said disappointedly.

“Well in that case, let’s work on a Nether Portal. We’ll need to get some lava.” Hunter thought further about the task before him. He’d have to go pretty far underground... and far away from his witchery setup. He would need to take his things with him, just the essentials...

“I’ll get digging then.” Slendy said as he drew his diamond pickaxe and wooden spade. ”Heh, if we run into monsters while digging it will be like a three dimensional game of Dig-Dug.”

“Except we have no way of inflating our enemies until they pop.” Hunter pointed out. “Now then, I will be getting ready.”

Hunter walked back to his grove, and began preparing for the venture.

“Oh boy, here I go kil-er I mean, here I go mining again.” Slendy said to himself with a smile on his face, Krombobulous Michael would be proud.

Once the portal to the Nether was made and the trip, made uneventful by Slendy’s spamming of the spawn and give commands to basically aid in whatever project needed to be done.

Once back at base, and the Quartz sphere made, Hunter began work on the process of creating the Seer Stone while Slendy was complaining about how much work he did for a stupid ball of quartz.

“This ‘stupid ball of quartz’ is a divining rod for in-depth information on one’s self, telling you things that even you don’t know or have forgotten.” Hunter said indignantly. “Or, it will once I’m done with it. Now... uh, let me see...” Hunter trailed off as he began searching through his notes on what exactly he needed for the process.

“I’m going to go make a rollercoaster now, bye bye!” Slendy said as he turned to walk away with a grin on his face, oh the pigs would have so much fun on it...Well, if they could even develop sentience to know what fun was.

“Wait, hold on, I have something.” Hunter said, holding out a small, hooked device made from bone, iron, and emerald. Boline in hand, Hunter got to work removing the webbing around the previously-stuck command block, the webs being removed quickly and efficiently, not even being torn to simple strings by the precision of Hunters’ tool. “There, you can have your command block back.”

“Yay, happy day!” Slendy said, overjoyed that his precious block was returned to him.

“Alright, now onto that... darn.” Hunter said as he looked at his notes and recipes. “I’m gonna need a Ghasts Tear.”

“Here you go!” Slendy shouted as he mashed buttons into the command block only to spit out a ghast a few seconds later. ”Have fun!” He said after he spawned the monstrosity in front of his friend.

Hunter was at a loss of words, and, unequipped for combat, began running for his grove. The ghast, having easily spotted Hunter began spitting fireballs at him. Ducking behind tree after tree, each one being burnt to ashes and splinters in seconds, he had little choice. He had to figure out a way to kill the thing.

“Slendy, get a potion from my chest!” He yelled. A potion he had brewed in idle boredom may be exactly what he needed at this very moment. “You’re looking for a purple label with a cyan liquid!”

Hunter thought over that. “No, wait, get me...” Hunter’s mind raced.

He had a potion of Fire Resistance and strength that would easily help combat this mob that was currently destroying everything around it, setting their base up in flames and filling the landscape with craters. “Orange! Red orange with a blue label!”

“Why would you label a red potion with a blue label?” Slendy asked as he went over to the chest and began looking through its contents for the potion his friend sorely needed. After a few seconds he found it and tossed it over to Hunter who was hiding behind a quickly diminishing tree line.

Hunter downed the potion and felt a surge of power flow through him, and the heat of the flames no longer bothered him. The impacts of the fireballs themselves still hurt, but the DoT and environment was no longer dangerous, and with his temporarily increased strength... He leaped at the Ghast to stab it... but the Ghast simply floated upwards out of his reach. In a desperate attempt to damage the offending mob, Hunter climbed up a tree but was knocked off before he could leap towards his target.

A single moment later he dove for his store of potions and grabbed the first offensive-labelled potion he could find. With a quick toss towards the Ghast, he scored a direct hit! The Ghast let out a keening shriek of confusion and pain. It had been blinded. Unfortunately for the players, this merely enraged the mob and it began shooting destructive fireballs in every possible direction, tearing up the landscape it could no longer see.

Hunter began searching his stashes of equipment for anything that could help him in this situation. He took a look at his various potions, brews, salves and poisons. He needed something effective. He grabbed a small bottle that was an odd, dark brown. This would certainly help. He threw the brew of Sinking at the frantic Ghast who, upon being splashed with the vial’s contents, plummeted to the ground, as it’s abilities of flight were nullified. Now that the beast was grounded, Hunter yelled for Slendy to attack with the diamond sword that had been spawned in a while ago.

Once the Ghast had been killed, the duo looked around at their base. It was a total mess. Hunter sighed and looked at his grove and garden. All his planted reagents were burnt to a crisp and the grove was just a crater-pocked mess, not even the Heart glyph of his chalk circle made it. He’d have to start all over. He had his altar though and that was... something.

Salvaging what he could from the wreckage he gathered the bare essentials needed to start over again. Near-crying, he looked at the total destruction of all his hard work. Darnit, and he’d have to leave a lot of his plants and potions behind. All he could really bring was his Cauldron, an old rusted Kettle, some various colors of chalk, and seeds for the most basic of special plants. He grabbed some saplings with which to grow a few more Alder trees, and a Rowan sapling was the last thing he saw that he could feasibly bring with him. The other objects were destroyed and scattered. Breaking his altar, he put it in his inventory along with a basic Flint and Steel. Assured that he had all the very basic pieces needed to start all over again, he sighed once more.

“Why are you packing up? Are you moving our camp somewhere else or what? Should I pack a toothbrush?” Slendy wondered.

“Bring a spare Command Block.” Hunter muttered. “We’re going to use one to teleport us somewhere else, someplace not ravaged by ghast fireballs.”

“Gotcha, but where exactly is that?” Slendy asked as he grabbed a second command block.

“No idea, but somewhere far away. You know how to teleport things to a location relevant to their original position, right?” Hunter asked.

“Ummmm , yes?”

“Well we can’t do it my way, I’m out of Ender Dew, and my grove is destroyed. I couldn’t brew a thing if I tried. So figure it out just send us... Idunno, a thousand blocks away to the south, and four thousand to the west. That should be a good enough distance.”

“Alright, now put that there, and that there, aaaaaand got it, let’s go!” Slendy said as he typed in the final coordinate. Slendy thought he got it right but neither of them knew how wrong he was...

chapter 1 Loading World

Hunter looked around at the scenery. They were in a dark, heavily wooded forest. “Hmmm... This will work. I just need to get unpacked and set up. Hey, Slendy?”

“I’m fine, I just teleported onto a root and kinda slipped, how’d you land?” Slendy asked.

“Without issue. Now then, the first thing to do is get set up. You have that other command block, right?”

“Yup! I never leave home without one!” Slendy announced.

“Cool, spawn in a house. Clear out a good section of land for it. I’m thinking made of brick, maybe two stories and-”

“A fishtank?” Slendy interrupted.

“Sure, whatever. Anyways, two stories and make it a seventeen by eightteen. You can do that, right?”

“Maybe? Let me give it a go, but no promises.” Slendy advised as he began configuring the command block and writing the code to spawn in such a structure, after a few minutes he began clearing the wooded area for a house of that size. After ten minutes of chopping down this interesting wood he hit the enter key to spawn a house, unfortunately it was two by eighteen and seventeen stories high. ”Oops.”

“...Okay, fine, I didn’t want to have any walking room anyways...” Hunter remarked as he began looking for a good place to set up his cauldron and altar.

“Let me try that again… Here we go!” Slendy proclaimed as he spawned in a house exactly the way Hunter wanted it to be, although with a few minor...alterations.

“You expect us to live... in an aquarium?” Hunter asked incredulously.

“Yes, yes I do, no cleats in the house though! Don’t want you breaking a panel and falling in, you could hurt a fish.”

Hunter sighed and began laying out his materials. He would just make a little hut of his own, his friend being unreliable like no other. Luckily, there was plenty of greenery around for the altar to draw from, so Hunter began preparing the area to be converted into a witches’ grove.

“What do you think? Should I mainly use hawthorne again, or switch to rowan for this one?” Hunter asked.

“Sorry what? I can’t hear you over the sound of how awesome this house is!” Slendy replied

Hunter huffed and looked up to the sky, wishing he could devise a potion that granted, even temporarily, higher thought. After looking over his tools and various bits and bobs he salvaged, he realized he needed a few more things that wouldn’t fit in his inventory. Sighing, he set his altar up and, placing a candelabra on top of the red fabric covering the stone blocks, considered it easy enough to find in the dark. After several hours of work he had set up his garden. The grove would need to be filled with a larger variety of plants, but right now he wanted to restock on potions, all of which he had to leave behind.

Once the garden was set up and the seeds were set to grow, Hunter decided that, while he was waiting for the mandrake and nether wart to grow, he’d have to get some stone to make a safe place for him to light a fire under his cauldron. But before that, he needed food and the wheat he brought with him would take much too long.

Taking some purple chalk and using it to draw a circle of glyphs on the ground, he called Slendy over.

“What do you need me to do for you now?” Slendy shouted from the front of his aquarium house and began heading towards Hunter.

“Well, it’s very simple. Don’t erase this chalk, don’t stand in the circle, and don’t let anything get inside the circle, alive or not. It has to be clear. It’s how we can get back here quickly.”

“Alright, so not even insects or how far down the chain of animals are we going down here?” Slendy asked as he sat at the base of a tree near the circle.

“Insects are fine, just don’t put anything in there you don’t want potentially warped elsewhere. That’s otherwhere chalk and I’m going to use it to get back here. I’m going to go gather some plants and look for food.” That said, Hunter takes out a blank waystone and, using the circle on the ground to bind the location, he takes the bound waystone, with glowing yellow rune on it. Just for safety, he bound several more waystones. Taking that and the otherwhere chalk, which was starting to wear down to the nub, he hoped he’d have enough for now.

“Ooooh shiny…” Slendy said as he stared at the glowing circle and the runes.

“Indeed. And useful.” Hunter said as he wandered off, stopping temporarily to call back to Slendy. “I’ll be back before dark, but if I’m not, at least have some lights set up. Wanna keep critters away.”

“Meh if anything comes near me I got TNT on standby.” Slendy said confidently as he held out a block of TNT in his right hand.

The witch scowled. “If you destroy my garden again I’ll... I’ll...”

“Give me an award for best friend ever?” Slendy jokingly suggested.

“I’ll summon a demon and sacrifice your eternal soul to it.” Hunter threatened angrily. “You have a diamond sword, use it.”

“What soul?”

“The one I know you have.” Hunter replied darkly. With that, he stalked off and began his search.

After navigating the forest floor’s various roots and foliage, he finds... “A path? Interesting.”

Following the trail, it takes quite a long walk but eventually he finds a clearing that holds a very tribal-looking hut. From outside he can smell something cooking, but could easily tell it wasn’t food. It was... an herbal brew. He couldn’t quite identify the ingredients by the smell, so he decided to inquire. At least, he thought, I’d have a neighbor practiced in the art.

Hunter raps quietly at the door of the hut.

“Who is the one at the door, is it me you are looking for?” An exotic, female voice called from the other side of the door.

“A fellow brewer, looking for food and ingredients.” Hunter replied.

“I must say that is all well and good, but what brings you to my neck of the woods?” She answers.

“I just arrived, and would like to become more familiar with my surroundings. I assume you’ve lived here a while?” Hunter requested. “May I come in?”

“Yes, yes you may come in, but do tell me, what is of your kin?”

Going to a window, he saw a very strange creature, a small zebra, much smaller than a normal horse. “I have no coven at the moment, and where’d you get that odd familiar?”

“What do you mean by a familiar, and one who seeks a coven is even more peculiar.”

“Well, practitioners should stick together. More hands make light work. And if that’s not a familiar... what is it?” Hunter asked, very intrigued as he opened the door to let himself in as he was allowed. Walking in the hut, he looks around and sees that the only creature inside is the odd zebra. Looking around, he spots the cauldron whose contents still baffled him. “Oh, did you make a mistake?” he asked, assuming that an accident is what transfigured the fellow witch into the odd animal before him.

“I’m not sure what you mean. Has my species been unseen?”

“You... are supposed to look like that?” Hunter replied, in awe. “Fascinating. I guess I just assumed that another witch would be human. Forgive my rudeness.”

“I think you mean no harm or rudeness, please, sit, be my guest.”

“Ah, thank you miss... Now then, a friend and I are in a bit of a fix. We had to suddenly move here and we don’t have a way around the forest.”

“If you are lost and must be found, I will show you to the town.”

“Ah, there are others, good. Please, lead the way.” Hunter said, standing up and leaving the hut, holding the door for the zebra.

“Thank you my dear, but do tell, are there anymore of your kind here?”

“Well, human-wise, yes, Slendy, my friend, is human. I take it that the town is not populated with others of my species?”

“Not that I have ever seen, is your kind always so keen?”

“Around here, no. I suppose if Slendy is the only other one here, I’m the only practitioner.” Hunter says, sighing. “Oh well, please, lead the way.”

The two walk along the trail leading away from the hut and eventually, after a decent trek, are outside the forest and at a large expanse of grass, a small cottage visible some distance away.

“Knock on her door, but be wary. She may find you rather scary. She will help you from here, I wish you the best, my dear.”

chapter 2 Crimson Flame

The library burned around him. He’d been working on another communication spell, meant to let him safely translate another of the strange tablets that’d been sent through the mercurial mirror he’s attuned to the Rift beyond the outlands. He’d gotten so far, written tome after hefty tome of information, carefully written so as to be perfectly safe for anyone else to read. Well, almost safe. A little madness was necessary to be a true Thaumaturge, in his mind.

None of this changed that his library was on fire, and armed... ‘men’ were breaking down his door. He weeps with fury and turns the large-scale Mirror he’d constructed, but never finished linking. It’d have let him speak to the Mentor on the other side of the smaller mirrors, meet the being in person and truly test his mind’s toughness.

Instead, he’d end up anywhere.

Clutching an obsidian wand in one hand, brass-capped and covered in molten-hot runes that gave off no heat, he grabbed a lone backpack, absently sucking the last few ingredients he has on hand into it, cleaning out a chest with some simple brass and lumps of rough Thaumium, as his door on the first floor breaks inward, shattering. Thankfully, the idiots hadn’t realized that the doors were better reinforced than the walls to either side, and would be stymied by the two further closed doors between there and himself.

He shakes himself, trying to focus. He may have done the impossible, infusing himself directly... but now he’d have to leave his lab behind. He hits a lever he’d always kept well away from accidental contact, starting a ten-second timer until the mound of transmuted TNT went off.

Deep breath. Step through. Darkness. Absence. Movement. Light.

Exhale. The mirror behind him crumbles, pieces of material no more black than the sun is warm. They turn to their unbound forms, vanishing as they become one with the Rift once more, and he collapses to the ground on his knees, finally letting loose the tears he’d withheld, showing his age -a mere sixteen years- as he struggles to hold back his emotions.

Some time later, he looks up, blinking as he sees that not only did he arrive in a real world, he could see an expanse of dense trees, likely a Roofed Forest, and a sprawling town. Fellow people, a lot of them if the number of houses and buildings are to be believed. And reasonably well-off, judging by the height of a few of them. And the town hall is fairly obvious. There’s no visible wizard’s tower anywhere, but he can work without one. He’ll set up his own, provided they don’t drive him out for researching in the Cult’s secrets.

A niggling voice in the back of his head, sounding like his old master, pipes up. ‘They need not know of your course of study. Simply tell them you study magic. They are unlikely to know the difference if you do not tell them.’ The thaumaturge nods to him. He’ll start again. Locate his Mentor again and get back what he needs. And he’ll make the Cult pay for what they’ve done over the centuries.

The young man starts walking down the rocky mountainside towards the town, never looking back or seeing the magnificent city a few hundred feet above him.

Hunter makes his way to the cottage and wonders how he would be scary to whoever lived there. He didn’t have anything on him that might be threatening... aside from a set of large robes that fell down to just below his knees. He had seen himself in a mirror and it did make him look rather sinister... Oh well, they clearly weren’t necromancers robes so he felt assured that a good foot forward would be sufficient.

Like he did at the zebra’s hut, he knocked gently on the door of the cottage.

The door opens, and a pink-maned pony is visible behind it, looking at his knees with an expectant look, before freezing in place, slowly letting her gaze travel up to his face. From her point of view, he’s standing back to the sun, shrouded in shadow and taller than even Big Mac.

A cloud of yellow marks her departure point, a few wisps pointing in the direction of the couch on the other side of the cramped living room, where a tuft of pink can be seen under it.

Hunter pauses. Maybe he was that scary... That wasn’t good, he didn’t want to scare anyone away... being a covenless witch was lonely as it was.

“I was... told to come see someone here?” Hunter said hesitantly into the house. Suddenly he caught the smells of various animals, some he knew, others he couldn’t discern for the life of him. Confused at the mixture of familiarity and strangeness he pondered inspecting the area. Or leaving.

A pair of turquoise eyes beer from the dark beneath the couch. “Wh-who sent you?” the timid response comes, like a frightened child.

“A zebra, I met her while wandering the forest.” Hunter explained, as he took a cautious step closer to the doorway.

“You’re a friend of Zecora’s?” she asks, and he can tell by her eyes she’s tilting her head, and the pony slinks from under the furniture. Frankly, it reminds him of an untamed ocelot coming out for a treat from beneath a build.

“Well, if that’s her name then yes, we never got properly introduced. I’m looking for this ‘town’ I was told about.” Hunter said, getting down on his knees to reduce his height.

She comes forward, stepping near him and giving a nervous smile. “Well, uhm, the path from my house leads to town... but what do you need there?” she asks, now able to get a better look at him when he’s no longer directly in the way of the sun. He wasn’t as scary as she’d first thought.

“Well, my friend and I were looking for a new home and we wound up here. I’m going to need some food and potentially some plant-care supplies to get my garden started.” Hunter said, thinking over what else he may need. “You wouldn’t happen to have any eggs, would you?”

“Oh, uhm, I’d have to ask the chickens if they’ve laid any yet, but they’re usually night-layers.” she says. “Henrietta might, though, she’s had some issues with insomnia lately.” she explains with complete solemnity.

“Hmm... Well, I don’t know how effective it would be on a chicken, and I’m pretty much out of ingredients, but I think I could whip up something to help with that. I’d... need the eggs first though. If you don’t have any that’s fine. I’ll see what I can do on my own.” Hunter assured the winged pony. He briefly wondered what sorts of potions he could brew with feathers from a pegasus...

The pony seems much more at ease as he leaves, and she wonders what kind of animal he is. She’d mistaken him for a minotaur at first, but he looks too rough, almost blocky in shape. Maybe it’s just the shape of his clothes, though.

Walking into town, he began looking for more of these pony creatures. They seemed nice enough, though he definitely preferred the dark forest. Much more room for wild plants to grow. As he continued, he noticed some buildings of rather cozy design, thatched roofs and mainly made of wood. This seemed like a farmer town, perfect for his needs. The only problem he could foresee was potentially having to save the residents from Slendy’s pranking.

Shortly after reaching what he could only describe as an outdoor market, he seemed to be drawing a lot of attention from the various, brightly-colored equines. He’d never found much use for reagents from horses but should he ever, he’d... no, he wasn’t that kind of witch, he’d make do without. Though the seeds of curiosity were planted, and his green thumb helped nurture it into thoughts of potentially making all kinds of potions. Taking out a book he had brought with him, his notes, he began writing down thoughts on the ponies.

Even if he wouldn’t ‘harvest’ a sapient species, he’d certainly see what sorts of plants they’d grow...

A glance around the marketplace reveals an impressive array of fruits and vegetables, including ones he’d never encountered before. For example, why are those fruit over there only called by their color? The orange and plum-colored ones would be far better with more normal names.

Still, he continued on and found a few interesting things. Something about the way those bales of hay were displayed seemed to imply a use he’d never considered and was absolutely foreign to.

Pocketing his book of notes, the large pockets of his robes easily carrying the medium sized tome. He noticed a stall that sold carrots and hearing his stomach grumble, he went to that stall first. “Do you barter? I have no money...” He said, addressing the stall owner.

The purveyor looks up, seeming shocked, but quickly shaking it off at the mention of having no money. “Uhm, I suppose that’d depend on what you’re trying to offer. This isn’t the Rainbow Falls Swap Meet.” she says, shuffling in place.

Hunter began rummaging through his pockets. What would be a decent trade...? He held out a handful of seeds that he had grabbed. “I’m not sure if you know what Belladonna is, but I have some to offer. You’d just have to grow them yourself.”

The pony furrows her brow. “Isn’t that stuff poisonous?” she asks.

Hunter puts the seeds away quickly. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to eat, I meant... oh, well, I suppose if you don’t practice, they are rather useless... My apologies.”

“Uhm, it’s alright. If those’re all you’ve got, I guess you can have some of the reject carrots. I think all carrots are beautiful in their own way, but these won’t sell.” she says, pulling out a small basket of weird-looking carrots. One makes him narrow his eyes, the witch wondering why there’s a desiccated Mandrake in the basket. Did she seriously not notice it didn’t look anything like the carrots around it?

Still, mandrake root would help to have, so he handed her the seeds and graciously thanks her for her produce. He now needed a place to get some stone to make a firepit for his cauldron. But the town seemed to lack any indication of having a quarry, so he continued on, thinking over what he may need to have until his plants were growing at a decent rate.

As he walks, he spots a figure that makes his eyes narrow. It’s definitely another human, for one, and also definitely not Slendy. The figure is walking along, a backpack made of purple fabric on his back and a brown satchel on one shoulder, a black rod in one hand, and the handle of a knife clutched in the other, though the knife isn’t drawn.

Given the destructive power of a well-prepared Thaumaturge, Hunter knows the knife is the lesser weapon.

He approached the new human. Perhaps he wasn’t the first one here after all, just new to the one he now knew as Zecora. He shook his head as he refocused on the other. “Hail mage, what brings you to this town?”

The person snapped their head up, eyes a bright, angry-looking red-orange. The color vanished as he blinked. “I-” he coughed, evidently unused to speaking. “I’m seeking a new home... though I was told there weren’t any other Players here.” he said, looking confused. Thaumaturges don’t often deal well with unexpected situations.

“I was told the same. I fear we were both mislead, but it seems that was not on purpose. The populace is friendly enough.”

The mage nodded. “That they are... and they’re very interesting specimens.” he said, a small smile on his face that makes Hunter slightly uncomfortable.

“...Indeed. I admit I’ve been wondering what sort of purpose they might be used for. Ah, I apologize. I haven’t introduced myself. Hunter.” He knew that, unlike among witches, names were not as important to many schools of magic, and not offering a name was suspicious. He found it odd, but he abided by the custom.

The man went to hold out his hand, but hesitated, smile faltering. “I’m, ah... not sure what my name is. I haven’t said it in... in a long while.” he said, looking a little lost. It’s about this time that Hunter realized how much younger the thaumaturge is than himself or Slendy.

“Well, I’m sure we can help each other all the same. If you lack steading you may use our...” Hunter sighed at the prospect of what he was about to say. “Aquarium.”

The thaumaturge blinked. “... Should I ask?”

“No need, my friend has great power, but... little learning in its workings. It is actually the reason we ended up here.” Hunter looked around for a viable spot to draw a chalk circle into the ground. It didn’t have to be that big, but with otherwhere chalk being what it is, he’d like to have an easily-reached area that would be relatively untouched.

“Ah, I see. My late master once told me that with great power comes great responsibility, and with great responsibility comes many headaches. From the sounds of it, your friend has much of the first, and is giving you many of the last.”

“Apt.” Hunter smiled, “Now then, I’ll need a safe place to put down some glyphs...”

“Glyphs? For what, may I ask?” he said, looking confused. If only the terms between different forms of magic weren’t so maddeningly similar but laden with different meanings... but this is what happens when a great many old masters develop different branches independently, and then never collate during their lifetimes, nor the lifetimes of numerous successors.

“Chalk circles. Well, just one, really.” Hunter said, holding up the purple chalk that gave off particles not unlike that of the creatures of the Ender. “With this, I should have just enough left to bring us back to where I have my current home.” Hunter turned and, readjusting his grip on the carrots he’d acquired, looked for a viable area.

The thaumaturge watched him intently. “How large an area do you need?” he asked, thinking of a field he’d passed on the way into town, before getting directions towards the market by that kind gray pegasus. The one with the pretty gold eyes that stare forward and at nearby nodes.

“Oh, nothing large, just a few blocks.” Hunter said as he found a spot on the roadside that was grassy and easy enough to find without being in anyone’s way. Drawing a simple seven-by-seven circle of glyphs into the ground and, as expected, used up the rest of his otherwhere chalk. Completing the circle with a single heart glyph in the very center, leaving him with plenty of golden chalk. He passed one of his waystones to the thaumaturge. “Simply place the stone in the center and stand in the circle.” He instructed as he did exactly that.

Several moments passed and the waystone’s rune glared brightly for a moment before utterly vanishing, along with Hunter, who was back at the original circle he bound the waystones to. He figured it was simple enough that even a thaumaturge with no knowledge of witchcraft could accomplish the task.

The ring of chalk flared, the sound of a collapsing wormhole - the same noise Endermen make when teleporting - accompanies the young mage through the ring. The forest is, relatively speaking, dark, and Hunter’s a bit surprised to see the thaumaturge blink, his eyes gone bright yellow-gold as he looked around.

“Odd.” Hunter thought aloud. “That should have been flawless... thaumaturge, have you any enchantments that affect teleposition?”

He turned to Hunter, shaking his head. “No, why?” His eyes were slitted like a cat’s, visible in the gloom as if they’d had a beam of sun turned upon them.

Cautiously, Hunter pulled a small, yellow flower from his pocket and, apologizing in advance, brushed it across the stranger. No reaction beyond mild confusion for both of them.

“Interesting, you lack the truest sign of lycanthropy, but you seem to be... mutant in some way. How did you accomplish this?”

The thaumaturge looked confused for several seconds before softly touching his face, realizing what the witch is talking about. “Oh, it’s, ah, nothing. Just a nightvision potion. I had to develop my own recipe, as nobody was willing to teach me.” The lie is poor, his stumbled words giving it away. What he’s covering up though, is less obvious. Still, Hunter did not pry. Secrets among Thaumaturges were things to be earned through great research or friendship with a practicer and were things not to be taken lightly.

“Ah, of course. I understand, my first attempt at a brew of that nature had its own issues. I’m not sure why, but for some reason everything I saw turned a very interesting shade of blue... Either way, I’m shocked that Slendy is keeping quiet. He should likely have a small railroad set up by now...”

“Weeeee!” Slendy cried as he went around his mini-coaster; it wasn’t much but it was his rollercoaster.

“Slendy, this is a friend, please refrain from irritating him until he is acclimated.” Hunter requested.

The mage crossed his arms across his chest, the simple brown suit rumpling under his arms. “He seems extremely childish.” he says, ignoring the internal urging to join in. ‘I’m an adult, after all, and should act like one,’ he thinks.

“He is, but unbelievably powerful. The headaches you mentioned are hard to avoid though. Now then, I assume you will require a space to set up the beginnings of your...” Hunter paused. “Lab? Is that what thaumaturgists call their places of practice and study?”

“Maybe, or maybe he wants to manufacture chemical X and bind it to some kids and create a super powered team of children who constantly save the town and beat the bad guys in the end!” Slendy said as he hopped out of the minecart and made his way over to the mage.

The mage shakes his head. “That sounds like a ridiculous idea for a play; no Thaumaturge would practice on another thinking being like that.” he turned haughtily away from the prankster to address Hunter. “As for your question, the Lab is the part where I work on experiments and develop the tools I’d need, a Study for learning and researching, and a backyard I’ve found works best for the practicing part.” He neglected to mention that he usually kept his ‘backyard’ overflowing with nasty monsters to test his works on.

Hunter turns to Slendy. “Would you be so kind as to... acommodate?”

“A tower is the preferable solution, a minimum of seventy blocks tall, no more than one hundred; circular, but not ovoid...” he continued on for nearly a full minute, listing off increasingly specific details about block placement and location of various components. When he finally finished, he ended with a small smirk, not having noticed Slendy idly entering the information in as it was rattled off instead of memorizing it.

“And away we go!” Slendy announced as he hit the enter key for the command block and spawned a round tower that was eighty-five blocks high and with more than enough room to test his experiments on various wildlife and filled it with needed materials.

The mage was genuinely shocked, mouth fallen open as he stared at the tower. Of course, he didn’t know that Slendy had simply saved the code for a standard tower on a piece of paper and simply copied it over, but the mage also didn’t need to know that.

Hunter, for his part, was proud of his friend for being wise enough to check his notes, and not simply ‘wing it’ like usual. “So, if we could continue on without further issue, I shall begin rationing the food I managed to barter for. It seems we will need money soon, I was only able to barter for what the woman called ‘the rejects’.”

The mage peered at the carrots. “... are they poisonous?” he asked, wondering what foul burst of flux resulted in the carrot shaped like a sleeping dog.

“I doubt it, but just in case, we should eat them slowly and await any side effects. I’ve had my share of poisons, but I’d be lying if I said I had any sort of resistance gained over the years.”

“I’ll try ‘em!” Slendy said as he grabbed a carrot and shoved it to his mouth but the fabric of his mask kept it from being eaten. “Why. Can’t. I. Eat. You?!” He said angrily as he kept attempting to feed his face with the odd carrot.

“I’ve told you to change your skin,” Hunter reminded his friend. “You reap what you sow. And speaking of sowing, I will at least try to plant one of these.”

“Plant the one that’s a normal-looking orange.” the Mage said, pointing at the brightest, most plasticky-looking carrot in the bunch, which had scared off the other buyers. “See? It’s all uniform, unlike the others.”

Hunter nodded, but also took a more scraggly carrot to compare them with after planting. Once planted as best he could figure, Hunter sighed and took a cautious bite out of another from the bunch. It tasted alright, nothing spectacular.

“I have some food with me still; it’s not much but it’ll be enough to see if either of you get sick.” the mage said, summoning a slab of cooked pork from his bag. He takes a few bites of it, eating quickly. “For once, I have to praise my forgetfulness.” he muttered.

“Hey, you got any fish fillets in there? Maybe some sushi?” Slendy asked as he hoped the mage would provide.

“I doubt he could at this very moment. As far as I know, thaumaturgy works its miracles through arcane manipulation, not merely spawning things. You on the other hand...”

“Oh yeah, doy, let me get us some fish!” He said as he tried to recall the code for cooked fish but when he hit enter he instead spawned a few silverfish. “Oh, not again!” he yelped, as the little, insectoid beasts went on the attack.

The meter-long creatures were at a disadvantage in the open forest, and the Thaumaturge backed up, wand at the ready, though he didn’t point and shoot yet; he didn’t have any spell foci that wouldn’t hurt Slendy or Hunter and could deal damage.

Hunter, for his part, yelled at Slendy. “You have a sword!”

“Oh yeah!” Slendy said as he drew his diamond sword and began slashing violently at the silverfish, knocking a few back, the little arthropods scuttling forward only to swept back, though with a near-dozen of them in the field, Slendy was rapidly getting surrounded.

The mage, realizing he had to act, strode forward, face set in a tight frown as he came at the hoard from the side, a silver-gray Focus appearing on his wand-topper. He pointed forward, and a wide cone of... something blew outwards, throwing all the Silverfish nearly twenty meters, scattering them through the forest... a few landing, unseen, on the Aquarium, and burrowing into the structure’s cobblestone supports, a couple others doing the same to the freshly-built tower. A dull, violet Focus replaces the silver one.

Hunter, for his part, memorized the location of the nearest infected block. If he could create a snare with which to trap one, it would prove useful in mutations. But he knew he had to be careful around the stone he hadn’t been looking at. Either way, he considered the entire event mostly a failure.

“Next time, why not spawn them already dead, so that if it is not, in fact, a fish... there is no issue?”

“Yeah, that was my bad guys.” Slendy admitted as he looked around to see if there were anymore left, being a bit paranoid.

“Now then, if we are done messing with forces that are currently incomprehensible...” Hunter began, sitting down by his garden. “I have plants to care for.”

A flash of violet light erupted from a nearby patch of open ground, marked with the Otherwhere Runes Hunter had laid down earlier. Inside the magical ring, a violet unicorn stood, blinking in surprise as she recognized the results of the spell she’s just reconstructed... and then threw up, completely unused to the strange, stretch-then-snap-to feeling of this form of translocation, and washing away one of the runes entirely.

Hunter sighed and, heading over to the new arrival, sat down to gently rub her along the back to hopefully calm her stomach. “Teleposition, and without a waystone? Astonishing feat, little one...”

“That was pretty cool, I still screw up my teleportations all the time, you didn’t hit a tree or anything.” Slendy said, amazed that this creature could do what he had nightmares about.

Hunter, for his part, nodded and his rubbing became slow, circular petting as he eased the unicorn... wait, wings? Unicorns didn’t have wings... what strange mutation was this?

“Are you alright?” The mage asked, the first to make sure she isn’t injured, kneeling next to the downed pegasus-unicorn hybrid. She nods, groaning and coughing.

“Oooh, Pinkie’s cupcakes aren’t nearly as good the second time around...” she moans, and the Mage sighs, checking his backpack for a bottle of water, sad to find he didn’t have any.

“Maybe she needs something to drink, let’s see if I can spawn something for her to drink…” Slendy said, as he began fiddling with the cube again and managed to spawn, not a bucket or vial of water, but a flowing block of water.

The cubic meter of fluid spread out from its position and, soaking the nearby area, Hunter sighed yet again, but took his chance to fill an empty jar he had kept and offered it to the pony. “You really are fascinating... to replicate teleposition without any physical damage with no object to direct you to a specific area... unheard of in witchcraft.”

As the pony drank slowly from the clay jar, she coughed once more but managed to mostly regain composure. “Guh. Thank you. I... who are you?”

“Hi, I’m Codename Slendy, but just call me Slendy.” The prankster said as he waved at her, whatever she was.

“I am Hunter, and we are from... elsewhere.”

“I am the Mage, and I am fleeing dark forces who burned down my library with me still in it.” Twilight looked aghast at his introduction, and immediately hugged him hard enough to drive the wind from him.

“Oh, you poor, poor thing!” she bawled, so sad for him it made the Mage more than a little uncomfortable. It did not help she was more or less in his lap, meaning her lunge almost knocked him flat into the muddy clay.

“Now then...” Hunter said, returning to the situation at hand. “You replicated a ritual without needing the primary focus. How, may I ask, did you accomplish this?”

“Focus? Oh, I just tied the arrays to my horn, aligned the ley line flow to the circle, and rebuilt the ghost of the spell from the ground up. The hardest part was trying to figure out where everything was connected; a huge amount of the tethers just drained straight into the grass, and it made the spell really inefficient.” Twilight said, looking up from the Mage’s chest. He whuffed a breath before it could get crushed from him again.

“Interesting, I’ve not heard of anyone using such a raw form of the arcane. But you sending power into the ground rather than drawing from nature is what caused you such discomfort. Witchery is about empowering oneself or objects with the blessings of nature, not the other way around.” Hunter continued, thinking aloud. “Although, you managed to replicate the effect rather flawlessly without any knowledge of its activation. Astounding... May I... have your name, please?”

“Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship! Well, Magic too, but that’s a sort of subset of the Friendship part.” she explains, letting go of the mage to get onto her own hooves, shakily.

“Royalty... of friendship you say?” Hunter questioned. “So, you have powers of bringing kinsmen together?”

“Uhm... well... I suppose I could probably find a spell for that... but mostly I try to make new friends and help friends become closer and renew old or faded friendships.” she said, blushing. “At, least, I think that’s it... I’ve only been a princess for a few months.”

Hunter silently questioned the logic behind this pony’s power if her main ability is for merely bringing people together. She had said she also represented magic, but that it was downplayed. “Yet you have an understanding of the roots of magic, enough to accomplish feats in an art you’ve never experienced, rocky as it was. Phenomenal, I must say. Not to mention very peculiar...” He looked at her horn. “And you say your horn was your focal point?”

“Yeah, most unicorns instinctively use their horns as foci for their spells, but I’ve learned to direct external spells through it if they would normally require an external focus. It lets me mimic other pony’s spellcasting and even replicate the abilities of some Artifacts, though that’s a little hard to do... well, I suppose it’d be easier now.” she rambled, gesturing towards her wings and looking dreamily in all directions as she contemplates magical theory.

“You sound like a Thaumaturge.” the Mage commented, watching passively.

“I just say she’s floofy.” Slendy chimed in happily.

“...nevertheless, yes, it sounds vaguely like what little I know of thaumaturgy.” Hunter agreed. “I assume your horn is made of alicorn, or is it a more magically conductive material?”

“Well while I’m at it, do you want anything princess?” Slendy asked, holding his command block in front of him.

“Uhm, yes, unicorn horn contains a well of Alicorn that calcifies as the horn grows, forming the outer layer. Inside is blood vessels and the well. That said, a pony with the traits of all three tribes is also called an Alicorn, because they’re considered a wellspring of a particular form of magic, stability, or other such conceptual energy.”

“Well, I commend you for your accomplishment, but I cannot advise you continue to, for lack of a better term, mangle my arts. It is very unhealthy.”

“I’m not mangling anything! Practice makes perfect.” she says indignantly.

“What she said, took me a while to get a hand at this command block, but now I can spawn anything with it.” Slendy added.

“Except useful things...” Hunter muttered under his breath, though he knew it wasn’t entirely true; the aquarium/house and the tower were both useful, even if he didn’t make the second one himself. He returned his attention to the pony. “Well, miss Sparkle, you are formidable but your execution lacks discipline or knowledge of the true arts of nature. You managing to appear here mostly unharmed is shocking and worthy of praise, but the fact that your execution was so... well, generic, I don’t foresee any true potential in my field yet. You have much to learn.”

The mage stepped into the conversation, “And it seems you’re practicing thaumaturgy without foresight, casting before testing and ignoring the consequences. Like an apprentice, you lacked the vision to test in a smaller scale, instead building the spell framework -without physical objects to anchor the power, if your description was accurate - and immediately following through. With a reckless attitude like that, you should avoid the magical arts entirely, especially thaumaturgy.”

Twilight looked aghast at the two of them, her wings drooping to the mud below.

“Do not fret.” Hunter assured the pony. “I’m sure you’d be able to find a mentor to help guide you, and if not we’d be happy to set you on the right path.”

“But... I already had a mentor! She taught me so much, I’ve surpassed all her lessons! I’ve mastered over twenty-five branches of magic through self-study alone, and repaired a spell thought impossible!” she said, looking between the two magicians before her. “I’m not just an apprentice!” her exclamation made her sound young, and desperate for approval.

Hunter chuckled, even as the Mage stroked his beardless chin. “Calm yourself, I’m sure you are very formidable, I’m just saying you lack direction. Try your hand at a single art and master it before delving into the root of magic. That’s why there are so many branches after all. You cannot climb a tree and start from a branch. You must scale the trunk first.”

Slendy pauses, having just jumped up to grab a tree branch, having intended to pull himself up. He let go and quietly landed, then whistled innocently. Thankfully for Hunter’s proverb, this had happened outside Twilight’s field of view.

“But, I have mastered those branches! My Fate-given talent is magic!” she says, pointing at the brand on her rear end.

“Interesting mark, but I see merely a starburst. If that is to represent magic as a whole, where is the hints of restoration symbolism? Conjuration, or even life magic?” Hunter asked. “I don’t doubt you have immense potential, but you are too spread out. Focus is key in any field of the arcane.”

As Twilight’s cheeks puffed up in anger, the Mage stepped closer, trying to speak soothingly. “It’s alright, nobody can master every magical art. Even the greatest Thaumaturge would admit they cannot perform every form of magic, no matter how deep they delve into it.”

The pony seemed to deflate, pausing in a position that made her look sad; posture, defeated. Then she straightened out, looking defiant and confident. “No! I refuse to believe I can’t do anything I put my mind to! I will show you what I’m capable of!” she said, charging her horn as she spoke, and vanishing with a fizzle-pop common in higher-strength teleportation, as at a range of over two kilometers it’s impossible to coordinate a jump without any energy leakage without machine assistance - like a Command Block.

Those have their own problems, but they are much subtler.

The witch, sighing, and said aloud to the absent unicorn-pegasus. “I would be more than willing to help. I meant no insult, I just merely tried to remind you that magic is not an obstacle to overcome or master.”

The Mage sighed as well, and patted his new friend on the arm, glowing eyes soft with sympathy. “I’m sure she’ll be fine; if she has a Master already, they’ll help her through this. I do have to wonder how old she is, though, I am still apprenticed to my own Mentor, and I’ve worked under him for nearly twelve years.”

“Twelve years? Took me that long to get to college. And you studied one thing that long?” Slendy asked, which revealed that he only half listened to the young mage.

“... Yes, it has taken me that long, and I am still an apprentice. I have learned much, and have far more still to discover. I’ve barely filled out my...” he trails off, blinking, before swearing vigorously. “I forgot my Thaumonomicon! All of them!”

“That is... your text of power, yes?” Hunter asked, knowing a little about Thaumaturgy, but not enough to tote around. “I understand what it’s like to go without literary guides. I lost my notes for a fortnight and during that time I nearly starved myself, not wanting to eat anything at all for risk of harming myself.”

The Mage chuckles wryly, “It’s the core of all Thaumcrafting; without one, I have only the designs I’ve memorized personally, as it stores the more... dangerous parts of the knowledge within itself for later perusal. I’ll need to get one before I can continue my studies. IT’d be foolhardy to do otherwise... I need to get a large, blank book, preferably bound with leather from a horse, though cow leather works as well.” he said, looking unhappy.

“Perhaps, if we found a library, they could direct us to where we could go to have one made. Horse leather may be... questionable to them, but cows should be safe. The stage I think we’d need a librarian's help for is perhaps a printing press.” Hunter says, thinking aloud. “I have some reeds, but they are but sprouts. A full book would take at least a few weeks worth of waiting, a large tome, likely a month.”

“Or I could just try to spawn one, what was it called again?” Slendy asked, staring at his cube with which he coded what he thought the title of the book was.

Much like thaumaturgy, Hunter knew little of the magic of the command block, but one thing he knew was that it required more knowledge of an object, beyond its name. More accurately, he found, was it worked by summoning something based on its true name. Discerning which had what true name was something he’d hoped to accomplish with his Seer Stone.

Slendy finished the typing before the Mage could respond, summoning not a Thaumonomicon... but a Thaumium Ingot, which thudded heavily to the ground, leaving the Mage gaping in surprise. Slendy erased the bad command line, just before the Mage began asking for him to do it again.

“Sorry for the bad coding.” Slendy apologized as he got rid of the foreign object by typing in a basic ‘delete’ command.

“No! Wait! I... I could’ve used that...” the Mage said, looking crestfallen.

“It was only a chunk of metal.” Slendy said, not knowing what he did wrong.

“Much like that Null Catalyst was merely ‘off-white powder’?” Hunter mumbled to the side.

The Mage sat off to the side, taking deep breaths, knowing the idiot was only trying to be helpful.

A Thaumometer, Trombone, and Thaumium Hoe later, all but the last having been deleted before the Mage could protest, and Slendy is no closer to figuring out the spelling of ‘Thaumonomicon’ than before. The Mage had left for his tower, sulking in the unfurnished space.

Hunter, managing to take the interesting gardening tool, looked it over. It was a standard hoe for all he could see, but the related material which the mage had so coveted... Perhaps he could do something with this...

“Did I do something wrong?” Slendy asked.

“Yes, right after doing something right, I’m afraid.” Hunter said as he turned to his garden. “Now then, now that I have a proper tool, I shall begin making a more useful garden.” with that, Hunter got to work tilling the ground.

Slendy sighed, and went back to trying to remember the ‘make cooked pork’ command.

chapter 3 Brewstand

Having finished his garden work for the time being, Hunter returned to the outskirts of the town he realized he knew very little about, much less what sorts of plants grew there. He would have to glean information from the residents before he could truly set up his grove.

Passing by the shy pony’s cottage, he briefly wondered about the insomniac chicken. He could easily make a brew of sleeping if he had the reagents. The problem would be a few things he had no idea how to obtain. He decided that the best place to go would be an information repository, so he began asking around for a library or anything related to it.

Once being directed to a large tree, he had to admire the craftsmanship of the feat. Making a steading out of a tree itself rather than merely cutting it down was a stroke of genius in his mind. And for a library even? He felt he could be easily at home here.

Stepping inside by ducking under the low door, Hunter began looking around the shelves, though the books seemed to be organized in a rather different way than he was used to.

The sound of two feet - not the four-beat of a quadruped’s hooves - coming down the stairs caught Hunter’s attention, and he saw what appeared to be either an imp, or a juvenile of some form of saurian species, though none he can recognize.

The eyes were certainly reptilian -or feline- but the short claws and bipedal stature reminded him more of an imp or other small humanoid. “What... are you?” asked the very curious witch.

The creature looked up in surprise. “Uh, I’m Spike. I’m a dragon. And what’re you?” the ‘dragon’ had a voice like a young boy, but clearly-spoken and eloquent, quite unlike the sort of speech Hunter would expect from a child.

“I’m a witch. Unless you mean my species, then I’m a human.”

“And I’m hungry!” Slendy said as he teleported right next to Hunter via the command block leaving it behind at his aquarium house.

Hunter sighed again. “Back to the subject at hand, I’m looking for an encyclopedia of sorts. Documents on the local flora and fauna.” he paused for a moment before asking another question that he desired an answer to. “And how many more nights before the next full moon?”

“And I’m looking for a book about cats in serious situations, or a comic book, either/or really.” Slendy stated.

Spike blinked. “... And what do you want with them?” he asked of Slendy, homing in on the request for comics.

“To read them of course; what else would one do with a comic?” Slendy asked.

“... Collect them, duh.” Spike said with an air of incomprehension.

“Do you have any for reading then?” Slendy persisted.

“I guess I have a few, but they’re not part of the library system. How would I know you’ll bring ‘em back?” he asked, as Hunter sighed, the two getting far off his original topic.

“Well I could read them here so you could keep them within line of sight, does that sound reasonable?”

Hunter shook his head and continued looking for his information. He’d ask again when the drake was finished. After a bit of discussion, the dragon decided to keep his comics to himself, which Hunter feared would not be well-received.

“Awww.” Slendy whined in protest.

“If you’re gonna act like that, then definitely not.” the little dragon stated, turning to Hunter. “So you needed a guide to the environment?”

“Yes, please. Anything you have on the nature of this town and its surrounding lands.”

“Okay... Uh, I think we have something like that.” the dragon said, heading for a set of shelves and returning with a rather large book. “It’s also got a bit of history of Ponyville in there as well, so there’s that if it’s interesting.” Spike says, offering the book to Hunter who takes it, thanking Spike in advance.

Flipping open the book, he found mostly what he was looking for, as well as a map of the general area. Moving to a table in the center of the room, he took out his notebook and began taking notes. His book was filling up and he’d need to get a bigger one. Carrying around several books was never an idea he liked to entertain after losing several notebooks due to having to mind them all.

Checking the maps, he found that the forest he had arrived in was known as ‘Everfree’ and that there was another, much smaller forest elsewhere called Whitetail. ‘At least,’ he thought, ‘I’d have a place to go should Slendy make the Everfree even more dangerous than the caution in this book seems to suggest it is...’

After a bit of writing, Hunter got up and decided he had stayed in one place long enough. Now was the time to get out and learn a few things firsthand. He thanked Spike again and, setting the book down, walked out of the library followed by Slendy. His goal was to go see what sorts of plants he could find, and identify them later, heading to the market first. Even if he had no money, he could at least ask where he could find some of his own in the wild.

The marketplace was, once more, buzzing with activity, and while Hunter got several confused or interested looks, none of the ponies run away or look frightened, and he spots several local food plants. He’d never heard of celery before, but it apparently goes with peanut butter... whatever that is. As well, he spotted a unicorn at a stall that was selling numerous plants listed as magical, which draws his eye more than the array of vegetables.

Then, he remembered he had no money still, and even less to barter. Hmmmm... he could at least ask for information on the plants. Walking up to the stall, he queried about some of the plants’ actual abilities.

“What sorts of ‘magic’ would these plants provide exactly?” Hunter asked, browsing the vegetation, his gaze landing on something that seemed familiar, but he was sure wasn’t in his notes.

“Well, Ghost Lilies are used in numerous spells for freedom of movement, transformation, and also make excellent center-pieces for dining areas. Wispy Cottonseeds are used for sleeping aids, just don’t mistake ‘em for Disturbed Cottonseeds. Needle-Cactus spines are hard to come by, but they’re really useful for sewing objects that need to avoid touching metal for whatever reason, and are superb quill-tips to mere brass ones. Snowbells are useful for iceboxes; if ya plant them in one with a glass top, it’ll keep growing and keep your food cold.” she said, pointing at each item in question as she described them. “I’ve got some more in the back, this isn’t my whole stock, but they’re the most popular stuff. I can also get some Maredrake root shavings, and some Belladonna leaves, but you have to show a license to buy those.”

“A license? For Belladonna leaves?” Hunter responded in disbelief. Every self-respecting witch knew it was the petals that added to brews the best.

“Well, yeah, they’re pretty toxic if they’re over-used, but tea made from the leaves is an excellent muscle relaxant.”

“Muscle relaxant? A mild byproduct of using Belladonna petals in a brew is to increase the effectiveness, making a potion last much longer. You can’t tell me that you have been using something as rare as wispy cotton for something like...”

She gasped at his comments, face brightening from ‘plastic, sell-to-the-customer’ to genuine enthusiasm. “Oh, you’re a practitioner! Most folks looking to buy are just looking for little things to help them out; I keep the petals and Cotton in the back for serious folks.” Well... she did say that the stuff in the front is ‘popular’, not powerful.

“Well, I would like to view your wares, but I’m afraid I’m just browsing. At the moment, my garden is sparse and I have little to trade, though I believe being able to sell some potions around town would acquire me some money. I will certainly return, and maybe I can bring you some samples of plants from where I came from.”

“Well...” she started, rubbing her chin with a forehoof. “Actually, if you can scrape together ten Bits, I can give you a Grow Starter. It’s got a bunch of seeds for some of the basics. And I’d be willing to buy any of the special plants you grow, and probably for better prices than you’d get selling the finished potions. Unless you plan on making a bajillion ‘love’ potions for all the couples around Hearts and Hooves day, but that’s only once a year. My usual supplier is pretty sporadic, ‘cuz he only passes by the natural growing places every once in awhile, and nopony feels comfortable enough near the Everfree.” she paused, “Speaking of, if you’re willing to go in there sometime, I can give you a list of really rare things to keep an eye out for, and I’ll pay top bits for ‘em.”

“Always happy to help a fellow witch; of course I would. In fact I’m currently residing in this Everfree forest. I’ve found it a very nice place to set up a grove. I feel that I should have a few basic brews by next moon.” Hunter replied, smiling softly, pulling out his notebook to add the list to. “And if you are unaware of it, I may have a few small samples of Spanish Moss to part with, very useful in more... defensive arts.”

“‘Spanish’ Moss? Never heard of it.” she said, looking intrigued.

“Hah, here, I have an entry on it from my own notes. It’s main use is in designing poppets. Dolls of self-protection. I figure I’d sell them by the handful once others start realizing their true usefulness. A chance at shaking off a brush with Death is worth quite a lot to some.”

“Oh, you mean Marecelonian Moss! And yeah, those’ll sell like hotcakes, what with all the things that happen to this town. You’ll probably get tired of making ‘em, actually. Still, it’s a good choice.” she said, using her magic to write a list of the materials she would pay well for.

Hunter, graciously taking a note to look into the difference between Spanish and Marecelonian mosses, thanked the mare and assured her he’d be back, the list of rare materials in hand.

She paused, before he could leave, “Oh, I totally forgot! I’m Shady Leaves, by the way.” she sticks out a hoof, as if for a handshake. Hunter took it and introduced himself in turn. “We shall meet again, miss. And next time I may have more to offer than information. May nature smile on you.” His warmest farewell phrase said, he left with a smile, which grew wider upon hearing...

“And may fate guide your fortunes.” she replied.

chapter 4 Tycoon

“After losing sight of his companion, Hunter, Slendy decided to wander about town and see what’s going on around there. He saw what looked to be a building made of pastries, this caught his attention. He turned to face the building and hurried inside as he let his imagination wander as to what kind of goods they sold there, candy, baked goods, cooking ingredients, it didn’t matter.

Upon walking inside, he’s greeted by a blue mare with a swirled mane, who pauses upon seeing him but offers a cautious “Hello?”

“Hello! What kind of stuff do you sell here, I’m new in the world.” Slendy asked as he smelled fresh baked goods, oh man did he hope they had a lemon cake.

“Well, we’re a bakery. So mainly cakes and pies and such, though we do offer more varied desserts such as milkshakes...” the pony listed off, being a bit cautious about the new creature with no facial features.

“Do you have any lemon flavored pastries? I love lemons.” He says happily as he looked at the goods on display in front of him.

“Yes, we have some lemon cake. How large would you like?” She asked, starting to grow used to the being who hadn’t even given a name.

“I would order as much as you could make but I am broke, could I work for one? Or maybe even just a lemon cupcake?” He inquired hoping to satiate his hunger for baked goods.

“Well... not really, I’m afraid. Even if you were to make the cake for us you’d still be using our ingredients, which is mainly what prices are based on. Sorry, but you’ll have to pay...”

“I has a sad now, I will buy one eventually, until then goodbye my friends.” He said as he looked at the actual cakes on display on the counter, rather than the mare which confused her greatly.

Perhaps it would be best if he didn’t return. As awful as it was to think, it was really the best outcome she could imagine from the rather... childish, and very bizarre creature.

“Alright have a nice day!” He said as he went for the door, upon leaving the establishment he looked around for ways to make some money, without his command block he couldn’t just spawn a lemon cake, so he had to find another way to obtain the confectionary delight. He eventually found himself at the library again, he had a horrible sense of direction. He entered the library again and thought if he could find a book on animals, maybe he could summon some exotic creature to have as a pet.

“You... looking for something?” Spike asked, looking up and seeing the same creature from before, the one who wanted his comics.

“Yeah do you have a book on exotic animals? I like having pets, especially large reptiles.” Slendy told Spike.

“Well, we have a few zoology books, yes.” Spike said as he walked to a shelf and, climbing up it, grabbed a book. “Though most of these rarer animals are hard to tame, so they won’t make good pets really.”

“Maybe I should find a new way to get a pet, is there a pet sto-er wait...I don’t have any money, hmmmmm” Slendy put his hand to his chin as he thought about how to procure a pet without money, too bad he left his command block behind again.

“Well, I don’t know where you could go to get a job.” Spike said, shrugging. “I guess you’d just have to walk around and look for ponies who’d pay to have a chore done.”

“Good idea, but on a side note, where’s the princess, she was able to teleport to our camp, maybe she can help me get back to it.” Slendy asked.

“Princess? You mean Celestia? Or Twilight? Sorry, it’s gotten real confusing since the ‘alicorn incident’.” Spike said, sighing a bit.

“The lavender one whose talent is magic...I think that’s what she said her tattoo meant.” Slendy added.

“Yeah, you’re looking for Twilight. She’s ah... upstairs. She came home and just sorta... broke down. I’m not sure if now’s a good time.”

“Maybe later then, good day.” Slendy said as he turned away and headed back towards town where he thought he was earlier except this time he took a right. ”Now what’s over here?” He continued to walk, he passed various shops, houses, and stalls and various ponies who gave him odd looks until he arrived at a farm. Maybe they need some chores done he thought also his feet were getting a little sore from the walk so a break would be nice as well. He sat down and relaxed as he leaned against a fence post. He rested there and made a mental note, always carry a spare command block cause walking wasn’t fun. After about fifteen minutes he heard footsteps to his left. He looked over and saw three smaller ponies, one orange, one yellowish and one that looked like it was made out of marshmallow.

Considering he was taller than just about any pony they had ever seen and entirely lacked a face, they screamed and ran off in the opposite direction. Seconds later, rapid steps came down the path towards Slendy. He turned to see who was rapidly encroaching and saw an orange pony with a stetson on.

“Hello!” He called to the rapidly approaching mare. The pony didn’t seem too friendly, considering she seemed rather... disturbed by the creature standing just outside her farm and had done... something to the trio of fillies she had heard but could no longer see. “Do you speak common?” He asked.

The pony frowned. “An’ what’s that s’posed ta mean? What in the hay are ya anyways? An’ where’s mah sister?”

“In the order asked, I meant did you speak this area’s common language, and you do so we can talk things out without an interpreter. Secondly, I’m a human and as you can probably tell I’m new. Lastly Was your sister one of the kids that ran screaming away from me? I know I’m ugly but that is too much.”

“Y’all ain’t ugly.” The farmer pony stated. “Y’all are horrifyin’. What kinda monster don’t got a face? You best git.”

“Fine, maybe the princess can help me with something later, anyways good day!” He said as he turned to walk back to town, why couldn’t he have worn more comfortable shoes when he teleported?

“An’ stay away, ya... weirdo!” The pony said, angrily choosing one of the more offensive words she could use.

As he went back to town he took in the landscape of the land, He just spent a good few minutes admiring the rolling hills and nature. After another long walk he arrived at a small cottage with a large abundance of animals, maybe he could talk to someone who didn’t shoo him away. He went up to the door and knocked four times, and he hoped that would get the pony’s attention.

The door squeaked open slowly and a single, turquoise eye peeped out from the small crack, before settling on the visage, or rather lackthereof, of the new creature. It reminded her of Hunter, but much paler, and not having eyes, a mouth, or anything resembling a face. The door was shut quickly and he could hear the ‘click’ of it being locked soon after.

“Aww don’t hide I’m not here to hurt you, can we just talk for a moment?” Slendy pleaded not wanting to be ignored again.

No reply came. Eventually, the door creaked open again and he tries to peer through the crack to see who was on the other side of the door, from what he could tell he really freaked the pony out... oh, that’s why the kids ran off, I’m scary….doy. Finally the words from the last mare clicked in his head… He always forgot that the mask wasn’t the prettiest of sights.

“Want me to take off my mask?” He asked the pony, but he got no response other than the door being shut again. “I’ll just leave then…” He said to the door as he turned to walk away, too bad no one knew where his aquahouse was at, besides the princess. Well, the path leading from the small cottage led to the forest with familiar trees. Ones that looked exactly like the ones in the forest he’d arrived in.

“Maybe I can just wander around til I find it, what could go wrong?” He asked no one in particular as he went into the forest. Soon after following the trail, he found a small hut, adorned with masks of various kinds.

“Hello? Any ponies in there?” He called.

“Who is that at my door, say your name I implore.”

“My name is Codename Slendy, but you can just call me Slendy.”

“What an odd name, from where is your domain?”

“Overworld, and before you ask I’m a human and this is only a mask.” He stated.

The zebra opened the door and got a good look at him. “What business have you? What are you here to do?”

“I’m lost and looking for my aquahouse, do you by any chance know where it is or what direction?” He pleaded, he just wanted to go home and sleep now.

“A house in the water, for a being of land? How in the depths do you still stand?”

“No, the house is a regular house but it is made of aquariums, I like fish as pets.” Slendy corrected her.

“That seems a plan most unsafe. Most eels would seek to dine on face.”

“No, I only used friendly fish like clownfish, and pufferfish.”

Zecora shakes her head. “Both those fish are very rare; and puffer toxin gives quite a scare.”

“Yeah but they are too adorable to not have. They are my personal favorite.”

Zecora sighs. “I see that any chance, of you bearing wisdom are well-passed. Please, leave my home and don’t come back. I have many things to do if I’m to mend this sack.” she said, gesturing at a large cloth bag with a rip in the side, straps indicating it’s meant to be worn as saddlebags by the zebra. “Now go, there is no more to see. Leave this place, and leave me be!” she commands him.

“Okay.” He said as he was kicked out yet again, today was just not his day. He left the hut with no objections and wandered back into the woods, luckily he managed to wander back home, where he found his precious command block, even though no one in town wanted to be friends he would just spawn a wolf and tame it, that way he will have some sort of company besides Hunter.

He spawns a large supply of bones, nearly a thirty-weight of them, and then sets it to spawn a wolf.

A minor twist, something akin to the tendency of Skeletons appearing in the Nether to be blackened and monstrous, afflicts the attempted summon of the puppy Slendy wanted.

At ten feet tall at the shoulder, the mountain of polished, flowing wood and sprouting, mossy ‘fur’ stands in front of him, looking down at him with eyes the color of freshly-sprouted lilacs, and the Primal Timberwolf takes a sniff at him.

“... Want a bone?” Slendy asked guilelessly, offering up the treat.

chapter 5 Of Mice And Mages

The mage was, to be utterly frank, bored. Slendy hadn’t been helpful, simply wandering off after getting bored himself, and the thaumaturge wasn’t going to try messing with the man’s cube of power. Not without having the chance to take one apart and study its every inner working first.

Stranded, with no Thaumonomicon, he checked through his bag, to figure out what, exactly, he’d brought along. A few more pork chops, fully cooked; a set of nearly-finished scribing tools, good for a single note or less; a piece of amber; a chunk of raw iron ore; the brass and thaumium nuggets he had stashed before, as meager as they may be; fifty-weight of cobblestone, leftover from an attempt at expanding his old tower; his old diary; and his old wooden, iron-capped wand.

He sighed, given to drama as per the norm for teenagers. Climbing the spiral stair to the top of his new tower, he looked out in all directions, all while thinking that he should probably put in some windows or bars or something, since the tower was more ‘watchtower’ in design than ‘wizard’s keep’, and searched the horizon.

In the distance, he spotted the town he’d found prior, and nodded, taking his bearings. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need a compass to find it, though he should certainly see to making a bed for himself. This tower of his was dreadfully unfurnished.

An hour of wandering later, and he’d nearly given up, blasting a few strange, wooden canines with the humming, homing Vis Shards he projected from his wand. The Focus had been a gift from his Mentor, and was one of the only three he had.

Thankfully for him (and the wildlife) he had stumbled across a cottage at the edge of the woods, and a yellow pegasus who was tending to some animals.

He had no idea what to make of the vast majority of the ones he saw, from a strange, long-bodied cat with stubby legs (a ferret), an owl with a flattened head and sharp, long beak (an eagle), and several others besides.

For several minutes, he simply stands and watches the pony tend her flock of animal friends, listening to her gentle humming.

After a bit of time, Fluttershy finally, by chance, looked in Mage’s direction and locked up, unsure of the new arrival. She had found mild companionship from the last human, and this one was notably smaller - but something told her there was something... wrong about him. Not quite dangerous, but enough to send a prickly feeling across her withers. This one was nothing like Hunter was.

After standing almost deathly still (How does anything living do that?) for several seconds, the MAge sweeps into a respectful bow. “I apologize if I interrupted, miss. I’m seeking the town, to try finding a replacement for something I’ve lost.” he said, a bit too loudly for her preference. Something was off about his eyes; they looked similar enough to Hunter’s, but seemed colder... almost like they’d been taken from something no longer living.

Fluttershy, not wanting to be rude, even if he seemed very bizarre, gently indicated down the path to Ponyville, before wordlessly shepherding her animals inside, who clearly had the same reaction to the new person.

The Mage sighed. He was just glad she’d been kind enough not to try handing off pitchforks and torches to her animals, who all obeyed her like children following the guidance of a beloved mother.

The comparison made a pang of pain twitch through his chest, though he wasn’t sure why, and he continued towards town.

Turquoise eyes amidst a sea of more varied peepers watched him go, unsure where the feelings of unease had arisen from.

A few more encounters with other ponies later, he discovered that only a few reacted like the buttery-colored one, and the majority were rather friendly. Eventually he was directed to a smallish house of sorts, being told that they made blank books there.

He stepped into the building, ducking under the low ceiling, and went for the counter. The stallion behind it blinked at his approach, but quickly assumed that was here to buy and put on his best ‘help the customers’ face.

“How may I help you... ssssir?” He realized he had to merely assume the creature’s gender, but the blocky-ish shape seemed more at home being likened to the hard-lined snout of a stallion, than the curved facial features of a mare.

“I am looking for a book to replace one I lost; it needs to be blank, with a minimum of one hundred pages, bound in some form of leather-” at this, the bookseller blanched, but didn’t otherwise react, “- and will need to contain no materials resistant to magic. In return, I have some materials that I could barter, which would be useful in your business, and may even be able to help you with infusing new properties into your equipment.” The mage’s voice was steady, almost monotone, as he listed off the requirements.

“Uh... well, I’m not sure what you mean by ‘infusing’ a machine, but... leather is not easy to come by. I wouldn’t be able to... make any, that’s not my field, but I can try my hoof at scrapping some pieces I have left over. Due to its rarity, I’d have to request money in advance.”

The mage sighed. “Fine... I will return later.” he said, turning to leave the building in a bit of a huff.

“I’m sorry, but you must understand that, well, your request is quite outlandish.” The store owner said. “But if you brought me some leather from elsewhere, I could use that and... not question where you got it from.”

The mage paused, then nodded. “I will keep that in mind.” After his simple statement, he stepped outside, looking about to find someone in need of assistance with... well, with anything, really. Nobody seemed to need help, so he continued to hunt around, slowly circling the town as he searched for someone with need of assistance and the willingness to pay for the service.

Eventually, he was approached by another pony he had not met before, and was, rather suddenly, asked for help.

“Yes? What do you need?” he asks, trying to sound helpful, but coming across as a bit taciturn.

“Well, uh, see I’ve been having some trouble with a leaky roof. I’ve been meaning to get it fixed but it just never seems to get done. If you aren’t very busy, I could use a hoof. I’d pay you of course. We can discuss payment if you decide to help. Is that fair?”

The Mage thinks for a moment, then nods. “I can do this.” he paused for a moment. “I have to admit honestly, though, that I’m unfamiliar with the local currency.”

“Oh, we use Bits, little golden coins. I will be able to pay well, I understand it’s odd for somepony in this town to have a shingled roof as opposed to a thatch one.”

“Why would you use thatched roofs? They are far too flammable, and easily damaged.” he replied, discounting that they’re cheap and easily repaired, and quite good as insulation.

“Well, I feel the same, hence why I have shingles, but not everypony in this town is able to afford such... safety.” The mare stated. “We aren’t exactly Canterlot.”

“Hmmm... what’s ‘Canterlot’?” he asked.

She sighed as she walked back to her house, motioning for Mage to follow. “Well, for starters, everypony there is rich beyond belief and tends to have the best of everything. It unfortunately makes them look down on those of... lesser funding. Of course, most of them are wealthy for a reason, it’s just easier to get money in a place with a more active economy.”

“Hmm... seems like a sytem that works, even if it does poorly for the majority.” he commented sympathetically.

“Oh, we get by. It’s not that big of a problem until you try spending more money than strictly needed. I just happen to find a brick-shingled roof a necessity for my home. Certainly helps keep me dry during the rainy season. Unfortunately some of them have broken or cracked and need replacing... which is why we’re here.” The mare finishes by indicating to her house, which is only one story and indeed has a shingled roof with several bits missing.

He looked over the construction, sighed, and nodded. “Do you have replacements?” he asked.

“Well, yes... sort of. I have some adhesive to stick them on with, but the brick itself is mostly... uncut yet. I’m sure a young minotaur would have no problems, right?” The mare asked, mistakenly identifying Mage’s species. Though she had never actually seen a minotaur before, she figured he must be one of them.

He blinked. “A what?” he asked, even as he strode towards the proffered pallet of brick, activating the last Focus he had on him - the dark green cap on his wand flared brightly, and a beam of virid magic struck the bricks, tearing them down and sucking the ribbons of energy representing them into his magical inventory. “I’m the Mage.” he said, materializing some of them in a new form as a single patch of shingles, the simple construct barely using any of the material he’d collected, nearly a hundred-weight of the bricks.

“Wow...” The mare said, as she watched him work. “Well, Mage, thank you very much. There’s some adhesive inside, I’ll get that for you and... I’d certainly pay you extra for a full replacement rather than simply replacing the broken ones.”

He paused for a moment, then nodded, pulling his wand back out and tearing out the rest of the roof, replacing it quickly and easily, using the wood he gathered from the support beams in the process to make new ones, with oddly homogenous contents. The wood wasn’t so much logs anymore as... lengths of pure wood.

“Wow, thanks, that’s definitely a job worth sixty bits, but I only have forty at the moment to spare... is that alright?” The mare asked. “I’m sure I could get you the other twenty by next week.”

“That would be fine. I will likely be making regular trips here to do more work until I can get myself properly settled into my studies. It was... nice meeting you. What is your name?” he asked politely.

“Cherry Inlay, I’m one of the richer earth ponies around town, so I suppose I should have no problem supplying you. I work at a furniture shop, in fact. If you need some chairs or a desk, I could certainly help you there.”

“... Actually, a chair, writing desk, and a wider desk for my studies are exactly what I need right now.” he said.

“Well, if you meet me at the store next week, I’ll get you those, taking the price out of whatever I owe you. The store is just a few buildings down from the market. Just head for the front of the marketplace and take two rights, and go straight from there. The sign is an image of a wooden bench.”

“Excellent. I will be there in eight days.”

“Alright, thank you again for your help. You have certainly earned this.” She holds out a small pouch that clinks as it moves, indicating its metallic contents. He takes the pouch, spiriting it away into his backpack, the lightshow visibly entrancing the pony.

“Thank you. I believe I will go seek further jobs, I was informed leather is expensive here.” he said, before turning to walk off.

The word ‘leather’ struck Cherry as odd, she wondered what exactly the man needed it for, but didn’t pry. He certainly had many talents. Perhaps she could make more use of him in the future. Smiling, she returned to her house, and enjoyed her new ceiling, knowing that tomorrow’s rain would not be a problem.

The Mage, for his part, wandered the town again, eyeing the various houses. He’d barely used half the bricks he’d been given to finish the job, and wondered how much a different pony might pay to get their roof an upgrade.

After a bit of looking around, he bumped into the very nice mare he’d met earlier, the one with the special eyes that were so, so pretty. She, taking a moment to notice him, smiled when she focused on his presence and recognized him. “Oh, hello again!” She chirped happily.

“Ah, hello again, Miss Doo!” he replied, waving at her with a smile on his face. Being around her made him feel better, especially the hug she’d given him when she’d first met him; she had noticed almost instantly that he’d been crying, and sought to comfort him.

“Are ya feeling better, then?” she asked him, and he nodded happily. “That’s good. I’m about to get off my last shift, if you’d like to come along. It’s been awhile since somepony walked my route with me, now that Dinky’s in school.” Her offer was accepted, and she slowed down to accommodate his lack of flight.

The two chatted aimlessly, mostly about the village, and the Mage felt himself grow lighter - not in a literal sense, but an emotional one. It had been... a very long time since he’d really sat down (or walked around, in this case) and talked with someone other than his Mentor, who was a poor conversationalist, all things considered.

Finally, the two wandered towards the mare’s home, just in time for her daughter to arrive. The filly was, at first afraid of him. “Is he gonna eat me, momma?” was her first words on seeing him, after a startled squeak and an impressive amount of climbing skill put on display as she went up one side of her mother and into the mare’s mane for safety.

Of course, with the two adults (one less adult than the other) laughing, she soon joined into the more relaxed atmosphere.

“So mister Marcus,” she said, not quite getting ‘Mage’ or ‘Magus’ right and eventually settling on ‘Marcus’ instead, “What do you do, exactly?”

“I study magic, and seek to master it in its truest forms.” he says, summoning forth the ribbon of brick-red energy the slates he’d put together were still in. It danced around his fingers, much to her delight.

“It’s so pretty~!” she breathed, eyes wide and sparkling as she tucks her hooves against her mouth in wonder.

The Mage, or perhaps just Marcus now, chuckled, feeling happier than he had in years. “I... I could try teaching you, if you’d like.” he said softly, looking to the filly’s mother for permission. The mailmare, happy to see her daughter and the human she’d ‘rescued’ getting along so well, nodded. “I’ll warn you, I’m still learning... but the greatest mages continue learning their entire lives.”

“So it’ll be like school? ‘Cuz I like school. Ms. Cheerilee is super nice, and she always helps me with my homework even when I’m slow ‘cuz I like drawing on my classwork.”

“A bit, yes. I think you’ll find it quite rewarding, little Dinky.”

The filly, in a burst of energy, hopped forward to hug him across the chest. The was returned, and then compounded as Ditzy moved in and hugged them both.

Perhaps Marcus’ life could turn around.

chapter 6 Lost Forest

Marcus, having finished the fine lunch, decided to head for the Forest, to try getting back to his new home, humming to himself and thinking about his day so far.

For Hunter’s part, he was diligently studying the diagrams Shady Leaves had drawn of the plants he was to find, and she even included the occasional note on how they could be used; Nightcap mushrooms can be used in place of enhanced carrots for night vision, Elder Bloom can be used to ward off spirits when dried and applied as ashes, and so on. Trekking through the woods, he continues his search, the gloom of the woods being calming to him, even if every shadow hid unknown dangers. Lacking a wand for defense, or a broom for a hasty escape, and not a brew to his name, Hunter realised just how vulnerable he was. Sure, his robes protected him from the walking, explosive fungoides known as Creepers, but in the dark of the woods, any number of zombies could be hiding from the sun, waiting for prey. There could be giant Spiders, or even the tiny, evil menaces that are Jungle Spiders, or even-

-crack-

Turning to the sudden noise and dropping the small bundle of plants he’d collected into his pockets, he prepares for the worst. At the very least, he has some waystones he could throw to act as... rocks. Hunter suddenly recalled how dangerous the world could be for an unprepared Witch.

Something moves in the undergrowth, low and swift, and it slips through a stand of brambles without slowing. The tight, coiling ranks of thorny vines seem to be no impediment to whatever approaches.

Hunter, realizing his utter disadvantage against the unknown threat, turns to make a retreat, but moves slowly so as not to potentially entice the creature with something to chase.

Before he leaves the little clearing, he hears... the clucking of a chicken? It comes from the direction of the oncoming thing.

A chicken, Hunter knew, was not quite dextrous enough to avoid brambles. Likely it was either some odd mutation he had never encountered... but that wouldn’t make sense. Who’d mutate a chicken with anything? They have little to add to any being.

Somewhere, far away, a Unicorn testing an ‘Animal and Plant Fusion’ spell, sneezed, miscasting and turning the whole flock of chickens into chicken-melons.

Deciding that the creature is harmless, he turns to see a chicken peeking out of the undergrowth and he sighs, figuring he should at least grab the plant he was heading for, and then leave the poor beast alone.

As he approaches, the ‘chicken’ rears up, extending leathery, bat-like wings and hissing violently at him, fang-filled beak and crimson eyes showing it to be no normal chicken.

Needless to say, his fear outgrew his curiosity or need for plants very quickly, and Hunter made a hasty retreat, focusing entirely on getting away. If only he had been more prepared...

Marcus, meanwhile, had wandered in and promptly gotten turned around enough to come out where he started no less than three times. He finally began getting deeper into woods at last, and found himself in a small clearing... with a trio of waist-high, wooden wolves, one of which is small. All of them look up to him and begin growling, and he backs up slowly.

He reaches for his wand with one hand and his knife with the other, when the first timberwolf gets up, the others following. Heck, even the timberpup gets up, making squeaky little growling noises, and the small pack all charging him.

Marcus flees.

As he runs, he commands the wand to swap foci back to the Force Focus he’d made from studying Iron Golems, and prays his idea will work. He runs towards a ravine, and points down with the wand, urging power and intent through the length of black obsidian, the fiery runes flaring to life and heat in his grip, and a blast of nearly-invisible force hits the ground... and with nowhere to go, push back on him, launching him high into the air. He has only one thing to say about the situation as he flies over the chasm easily, passing the treetops in the process:

“This was a terrible ideaaaaaaa!!”

Hunter, for his part, was still running from the creature, finally checking behind him to see if he’d gotten away. Sparing a few precious seconds, he scanned the wooded area behind him.

All was mostly quiet - and that, in a forest, is significantly more reassuring than actual silence. He can hear distant bird calls, the wind in the woods, and other such things. Deciding he was safe, he decided the best course of action was to return back to his grove and study the plants he had picked before selling his samples to Shady. Taking the long way around the wooded area that had housed the strange mutation, he took about an hour to get back to the aquarium and it was nearing midday, the sun barely filtering into the canopy, except for their clearing, which was very bright.

Within moments, he spots something very, very off about the clearing. For one, there’s no sign of Slendy’s normal antics, such as a veritable storm of various mobs stuck in minecarts. For two... there appears to be a large new hill, covered in grass and shrubs, in front of the aquarium house.

A hill with ears, and patches of flowers that look like eyes the color of freshly-bloomed violets.

The massive, canine shape doesn’t move at his presence, but the flower-eyes wilt and bloom in sequence to make the illusion of an eye shifting to look at him. This wolf, whatever it actually is, also seems to be pouring a steady, gentle stream of life back into the surrounding environment.

The titanic canine bears a carpet of moss and grass in place of fur, wooden hide and flesh beneath it. And even laying down, it’s as tall as Hunter.

Also, it has a giant, bright red bandana around its neck.

“Slendy...” Hunter assumed, sighing, a bit cautious of the beast. Moving around the giant to get to the front door, and sees something leaned against the beast. Hunter, for his part, took a few moments to recognize Slendy without the face-covering mask. “Did you... make that thing?”

“No… He found me here and we became friends…Unlike the ponies, this lil guy likes me.” Slendy said a little disheartened. The wolf chuffed, turning a little to make Slendy more comfortable.

“Is that why you have discarded your mask, finally? I said wearing it was not the best of ideas.” The mask itself, while plain and easily acquired, had been in homage to a Griefer Hero of old... and perhaps not appreciated in the modern day.

“Yeah but because of it no one wants to be friends with me now; the zebra, the baker pony and the one by the farm all hate me and told me to leave and never come back.”

“And so you’ve decided to remove your mask in an effort to make peace?” Hunter asked, “That’s... rather mature of you.”

“Yeah, but even though I took it off, I doubt they would want to be friends…”

“Wooden wolves’re chasing me and then I flew across a ravine and then realized I was on the wrong side and had to do it again and then I got back here and now I’m going to pass out!” Marcus yelled, all in one breath, before pitching forward onto his face, six feet from the hillock-sized wolf, which he’d thankfully failed to notice. Clovers and moss grew to cushion his fall, courtesy of said wolf.

Hunter, for his part, was surprised at the control the creature had. Turning to the beast, he questioned it. “Can you do... other plants?”

The wolf stares at him with its flower-bed eyes, not making any motions as if it had understood him. Its ears, like hollowed stumps, turn towards him momentarily, before facing in other directions as the wolf seems to disregard him once more.

Hunter, a bit disappointed, still goes over to collect a sample of the clover for inspection and testing. Along the way, he gently pats the Mage to see if it would stir him. The young man mumbled something into the earth, but was otherwise still, evidently sleeping quite hard.

“Well, he seems alright, just weakened physically. He should be fine by next morning if not sooner.” Hunter deduced, taking another sample of clover. This one to plant should the first sample display any paranormal abilities. Finding no externally visible effects, he decided that he might as well leave it be. It was just clover, and not even the fortunate kind. What he did have though, was a few plants on Shady’s list and he took out her list and inspected it for any details on what he could do with what he found. He would still sell the samples, but definitely add to his own notes.

Bluebells, for protection; Celestia’s Grace, for purifying; Luna’s Tear, which has potent effects for counteracting poisons and venoms; Mandrakes, of course, and Wormwood; St. Yarn’s Wort for warding off evil spirits; Deerwort as a plant used to combat and nullify or simply weaken some forms of magic.

The final, he decides, could be very interesting. But he only had the one sample he could find and would have to decide... plant it and claim he couldn’t find any, or sell it for the agreeable price Shady had written for it.

One of the ones he’d seen that was questionable then and even more so now with the creature he’d found with Slendy, was listed as ‘Timberwolf Heart’. Apparently, they are wooden ‘hearts’, shaped like anatomical hearts, not valentines, that animate the Timberwolves... and given the gigantic size of the canine resting by the spot he’d planned to set his grove, he could see why they are considered ‘rare and valuable’, and he’s not entirely sure why any witch would wish to harvest one.

Still, he had a few plants on the list and, he decided, that if he honestly needed the others, he could find more, but the rarity and potential for Deerwort was... enticing. He decided to plant it, and... realized he had no idea how to care for the new plant. He’d have to acquire this knowledge. Maybe the zebra knew something.

He decided to take the Deerwort to her, and the other plants to Shady. He could easily get more Deerwort from a healthily-growing plant after all.

Walking down to where he recalled the path to the town, and the zebra’s hut by proxy, he gets about halfway to where he recalls the path being but is stopped by a crackling noise, followed by a rather bad scent in the air. Something akin to the sound of creaking wood and feral growls accompany the signs, and twin eyes, glowing a sickly, virid green peer from the darkness aside the path.

The sounds and other information matched the description of Timberwolves much closer to the ones in Shady’s notes. Perhaps Slendy had summoned a new variety. Either way, the eyes looked very predatory, and the sounds it made were notably hostile. It was not going to simply let him rip its heart out, and still lacking any form of personal defense, he immediately ran for his camp, hoping to get help from Slendy.

The lone timberwolf chases him, growling and barking like a rabid animal, and he barely makes it to the clearing once more in time to be tacked to the ground by the elemental. He feels splintery wooden teeth, and smells rotten wood and putrid meat, and can feel the waves of decaying magic roll from this thing. It’s not just a different type of Timberwolf from the one Slendy summoned, it’s almost like the antithesis of it, or one that’s been sick its entire life.

Either way, he recognized decaying effects being similar to a brew he once made using a poisonous potato as the main ingredient. And the effect was. Hunter’s eyes go wide and he begins screaming for help, the only thing his frightened and unmanageably racing thoughts could do.

He feels a surge in the life of the forest around him, and then the weight of the wolf on his back vanishes with a surprised yelp, the wolf being thrown through the air. The larger one stands protectively over Hunter, having sprinted nearly forty meters in two seconds without making a noise.

The wolf leans down to nuzzle Hunter, and a small patch of flowers with white blooms shaped like pale tears and two reddish-orange eyespots on two upper petals, crystalline in appearance, grows instantly. A drop of water from a tree above drips down onto the petal, growing in lustre as it does, and falls onto the bridge of Hunter’s nose. A shiver runs through him... and the wounds on his shoulder close.

The flower wilts and blackens, dead and gone in seconds.

Hunter, hardly believing the effect, stands up and, feeling much better, goes to inspect the flower. He wondered if the plant could naturally supply that, or if the larger Timberwolf had enacted some magic on it; if it was just the flower, then if he could find another... He hastily scrawled a description of what he remembered the flower looking like before it blackened, his memory fading from the fact that the glimpse he got was a memory riddled with fear.

Slendy, for his part, was still confused over his backrest vanishing. “Faolan, where’d you go?” He asked, still tired. The wolf turned instantly, ears perking up as it padded back to its master, pawsteps not only silent, but leaving no bent grass or clover in its wake as it returns. In addition, a tail akin to a siege weapon wags happily behind it as it lays back down.”Good boy” Slendy says as he pats the timberwolf on its head.

Hunter, impressed with the creature’s obedience, walks over to Slendy once he finished writing all he could about the flower that had saved him. “Your... pet is very formidable.” Hunter understates.

“And a good nap buddy, good night.” Slendy said, before he fell asleep again.

For his part, Hunter decided he needed a weapon. But he didn’t have much. He had some spare flint with which to make more waystones... but he could potentially use a particularly sharp one to use for weak defense... but then Hunter eyed the sword of diamond that Slendy was so callously letting sit on the ground. He wouldn’t mind, he could spawn another.

As he reaches for the sword, Marcus makes noises and begins to heavily push himself up, only a few feet from Hunter, blinking blearily. “Muzerpha... wha’s goin... oogh... where am I?” he finally settles on a question once his mind and mouth are capable of formulating coherent, real words.

Hunter, taking the sword in hand, walks over to the Mage to see how he is. He didn’t have any way to help really, but he could at least check the poor boy over. “Can you sit up?”

Marcus looks up, groaning as he rubs his eyes, the red-glow flickering into view and back out, sitting up after some effort. “Y-yeah...” he says, as he remembers the start of the day so far.

“Well, at least you’re alive and... mostly well.” Hunter says, cautiously heading for the forest path again, this time armed.

“He’s not dead? That’s good.” Slendy said with a yawn as he was mostly asleep.

“Yes, he seems alright. I will be back shortly.” Hunter announced as he exited the clearing, once more hoping to reach the zebra’s hut.

Marcus pushes himself to his feet. “Wait, Hunter... where’re you going?” he asks, blinking and looking after the man.

“Just ahead of here is a path. One way it leads to town, the other to a friend. I’m going to inquire about this plant I found.” Hunter explained as he turned back to his destination.

“Ah... I should probably work on getting some Iron. I’ll need it to get anywhere with the more advanced materials.” Marcus says, rubbing his head as he stands up. The young man began marching to a side of the area, to begin tearing down a tree and working on a pit to turn into a mine.

That reminded Hunter that he should get some information on local firestarting techniques; flint and steel does someone no good without either of those items, or a way to contain the fire itself.

Either way, he had a few new plants to discuss, so he headed for the hut in the woods. Eventually he got there with little trouble, and he approaches the door.

chapter 7 Rhyme Time

Knocking on the door lightly, he patiently waited for a reply, holding the diamond sword pointing towards the ground. He wasn’t very fond of the style of weapon, though it was a lot less brutish than a simple club. A sword would do for now, but what he really needed was more... mystical tools.

Either way, the door opens and out steps the zebra, who greets Hunter in her usual way, with a rhyme.

“Greetings my friend, what brings you here? Though with a sword like that, is there much you fear?”

It was odd, really, Hunter thought, that she spoke like that, but it did add a bit of an air to her. Hunter smiled softly. “I had a problem with a timberwolf, so I borrowed this for protection. Thankfully I haven’t needed it so far.” He makes a gesture and steps forward slightly, silently asking for permission to enter.

“And from whom did you borrow this? It must have cost you a load of bits.”

“A friend with... a very odd temperament. He is childish, but means well. Anyhow, I’m here because of this.” Hunter fishes out the sample of Deerwort. “I found it earlier and was wondering if you knew more about it.”

“Ah! An herb with powers grand and great; it has many uses when in different states.”

“So you know it,” Hunter replied, glad his suspicion was confirmed. “Do you know where I could get more, or how to care for one to grow more?”

“The name ‘deerwort’ is what it goes by; but it’s very rare, for which I must sigh. Atop ley lines is where they best grow, but finding a safe one is... difficult, you know?”

“Hmmm.. but if I were to somehow locate one of these ley lines, it would grow healthily? Does it... feed on the ley lines like normal plants with fertilizers?”

“It grows on the lines, atop worse things. Hence why solace from spells it brings. It blocks out harmful casting, and prevents mild arcane blasting.” she explains.

“Interesting... It sounds a bit like a Null Catalyst, a powdery substance that is used to nullify magic, by way of separating one’s connection to sources of arcane energy.” Hunter muses, interested.

“Deerwort works much the same; but for cleaning up heftier magic, Poison Joke is to blame.”

“So if I grew more of these, on a ley line, I could potentially make a powerful antidote to arcane toxins...”

“Hey, Hunter, you in there?” Slendy’s voice calls from outside the hut. “Faolon seems to think so!”

Zecora looks quizzical. “That sounds like your rude friend. He annoyed me enough I sent him away in the end.” she informs Hunter. “But something feels off, there’s great magic showing. Something green, ancient... and growing.”

Hunter nods. “His... less-than-reliable, but very impressive power, seems to have summoned some other form of Timberwolf. An... older variety, I assume? I originally thought it was a new development.”

Zecora, curiosity piqued, goes to the window, then gasps and backs away, eyes wide as can be. “A beast like that has not been seen, save in scrolls and tomes of what has been! A guardian of grove and grotto, Primal Timberwolves fill nature’s motto.” she pauses, then says without rhyming. “The land provides for the many, who become the land in turn.”

“As I stated, it was likely an accident on his part, but it has helped another friend, and Slendy has tamed it, so I saw no harm in it. They are... avatars of nature? Or rather, guardians... like Ents?”

“As Ents to twigs are Guardians to ents, writ big. No avatar of nature, you see; the face of the goddess they be.”

“Interesting, that certainly explains its power. Quite a fortunate accident I suppose.” Hunter mused... “It was certainly of assistance when the third of us was hurt... but what, pray tell, caused these beasts to make way for the strange, much smaller and less lively varieties that have been seen in this forest?”

“They are made of harmony, of balance in need. But pure order or neglect, leaves harmony to bleed. Ponies, they try, but are afraid of change; they expand their control over all their range.”

“So... they, the ponies, harmed the natural environment, and forced the timberwolves to mutate to fit their new environs?” Hunter asked, a note of acidity in his voice.

Zecora shakes her head. “No, their actions let the land flourish and grow; but they stifle new forms, let no chaos show. They fear the unknown, as all wise things do; but they shroud it in order and science, blanding life’s brew.”

Hunter shakes his own head in disappointment. “A shame. Why would they keep such a noble beast at bay and make them monsters instead?”

“They did not know the results they faced, and few in the world yet do. It takes a witch to see the imbalance, and bring harmony too. The changes were slow, and took many generations to show. A pity they had lived in such peace and safety; more conflict would’ve taught them... maybe.”

“I’ll just wait out here for you, Hunter, Faolon seems to be a bit tired... or hungry, I can’t tell.” Slendy shouted.

Hunter sighed. “He is a child, that is certain, but he has a good heart. He is off-putting, but it seems your throwing him out made him... change a bit. For one, he’s said he’d stop wearing the mask.”

“To let them grow, all baby birds must leave the nest in time. To have their faults put into the light by another’s hoof; in this case, mine.” Zecora says. “It is better he received a simple request to leave, than face the wrath of one with a lesser leash. My temper is scarce and easy to dodge; it is why I can live peacefully in this living lodge.”

“Also I summoned a bunch of iron golems!” Slendy called.

The sounds of many large things coming through the undergrowth as the derpy golems wandered around met Hunter’s ears. The sound of every living thing in their way being trampled.

Zecora’s eye twitched first.

“He has yet to learn time and place... that has not changed. I’ll see if I can’t get them into town. These golems of his don’t intend harm, honestly. They just... lack.”

Zecora takes a deep, calming breath, her eyes closed.

“Also, the golems kinda came out looking weird, they look like the ponies in town, but really big!”

Nope, too much for Zecora, and she goes to lie down. “Please, bring these ‘golems’ to heel... I, meanwhile, will be restricting how I feel...” she tells Hunter, and puts a pillow over her head.

Hunter nods and leaves the hut, and finds Slendy and the golems who were indeed rather equine. “Come, Slendy, why don’t we introduce them to the town so they can be... appreciated.”

“Sweetness!” Slendy pumps his fist into the air.

Chapter 08 Meet 'n' Greet

Hunter groans as he watches the golems hobble along, stiff-legged, and trample all the undergrowth, their dragging feet tearing up roots and plants as the veritable army of iron creatures follow behind Slendy, who is riding atop Faolon as he leads the golems.

“Man this is fun!” Slendy cheers. ”I love golems!”

Hunter nods. The sooner they’re in town, the sooner the forest can attempt to regrow. Though, given what Zecora said about the overabundance of harmony the ponies bring, it might take time for the wild-growth to become wild enough to replace what was lost. The thought bothered Hunter, but he didn’t speak up, deciding to let Slendy revel in his accomplishment. Maybe... maybe a bit of chaos returning to the environment was called for. And he knew nobody better than Slendy for that job.

Perking up at his theory’s potential result, he takes slightly larger strides so as to keep up. He knew how to contain Slendy, but if need be, he could be riled up with just as much ease.

“You think everyone will like the golems?” Slendy questioned.

Hunter nods. “I’m sure they will have a much warmer reception than we had.”

“I hope so, took a while for me to get these things spawned.” Slendy added as they came to an opening in the forest as they passed by the small cottage they were by yearlier, the one with the scared, yellow one.

The small troupe of Golems and their two keepers came to the edge of town, a muddy tract of churned earth following them. Hunter had never seen such results on the earth from Golems before; heavy as they are, they rarely damaged the ground below, save when swinging at threats to their ever-beloved Villagers.

Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all... everything had to be given in moderate doses, even things that would repair the environment.

Nevertheless, when the grass was left behind and they were once again on the dirt road that led into town, the destruction of the ground stopped, and the road behind the golems stayed intact. By the time the golems had gotten fairly close, the clanging had gotten a little irritating to Hunter.

As well, the ponies ahead of them had cleared out with gasps of surprise and terrified shouts, ducking into homes or fleeing, as the golems rounded towards a playground full of pony children at play.

The Golems, being massive iron beasts, form a curious semi-circle around half the playground, and all the adults are too terrified to make any sudden movements to rescue their offspring, unsure if this would set off a deadly tidal wave of metal.

One of the ponies, a brown colt with a sandy mane, waddles over from where he’d been sitting to the side, begins looking them over with awe. A Golem leans down, then brings up a hoof...

And proffers a bright red flower; a poppy to be exact. The colt smiles and munches it happily, and the Golem begins wandering off, the others all beginning to wander the small town on simple patrols, and a breath of relief is shared by all present.

“Everyone, it’s okay! I just brought you some golems!” Slendy announced.

Hunter, relieved that the eating of the flower was a viable response, relaxes, figuring that, at the very least, the golems won’t consider any locals a threat. Though if the golems had been fully accepted was still up in the air. It was a large town, it may take time for the word to spread that the golems are nice.

Some of the children begin playing on the golem that had come to the playground proper, where it was standing motionless. A trio of fillies were making a steady effort to climb atop the golem’s head.

At this point, Hunter was more concerned with how the adults would take it, as this is entirely new, and Hunter was quickly learning that ‘new’ was not always welcome in their society.

“Hey, Faolon, wait here, I wanna talk to some of them.” Slendy said as he jumped off of his back which wasn’t as cool as it was painful, curse his bad knee. “Ouchy…”

Soon after the timberwolf was left behind, a few ponies began heading for Slendy to inquire about the thing he was riding.

The first pony looks really concerned, a unicorn shielding a small foal. “Uhm, s-sir? Why do you have a giant Timberwolf with you?” she asks, shying back a bit when he turns towards her. She seems nervous, and trembles slightly.

“He’s my little buddy, he follows me around and protects me, he even got rid of two smaller ones earlier while I was napping.” Slendy explained as Faolon looked over to them.

The pony stares in confusion, blinking at his words. When she notices the giant timberwolf looking her over, she visibly flinches away with a whimper. “Y-you’ve got it under your control, though, right?” she asks, standing protectively over her youngster.

“Of course, look it even has a red bandana on it to signify it is tamed.” Slendy said as he motioned for Faolon to come over and Slendy began to pet the large timberwolf.

The pony shies away. “Uhm, alright, I’ll just, uh, leave you be then...” she says, and the other ponies quickly move away, not wanting to be around the giant wolf. Funny enough, a couple take refuge near an Iron Golem, the pony-like shape reassuring them.

Overall, Hunter actually found the whole scene rather amusing. It is reasonable to be afraid of the unknown of course, but were it wild, it wouldn’t be so obedient and act as such. The ponies really are very interesting people.

Slendy, meanwhile, was watching the three fillies climb atop the golem a little worried they might fall; he didn’t want this to backfire like last time.

As one, an orange pegasus, is about to fall, the golem shifts and pushes her rear up to keep her from falling, otherwise remaining utterly stoic. Slendy let out a sigh of relief, maybe this was as good idea as he thought so, maybe for once everything was going to be alright.

“Anyone else got a question?” Slendy asks the ponies.

A couple of the ponies flinch at his tone, ears going back.

“Don’t be shy. Ask away.” He says, this time a bit softer so he doesn’t discourage anyone.

Hunter chuckles. “Perhaps it’s best if you leave Faolon with them so they can get used to him?”

“Great idea! Faolon, I want you to watch over the town and protect it as if it were your own!” Slendy orders his companion.

The great wolf looks back at him and gives what Hunter could swear is a sigh of ‘this is a bad idea’, rolls its flowery eyes, and begins leaping over houses to head towards somewhere else in town, leaving a trail of screams and shouts of surprise.

“This is going to be a great, I just know it.” Slendy says quietly to himself, without a trace of irony in his voice. Looking about, he decides to walk over to the golem and watch the kids play, only to recognize one of them from the day before when he was by the farm.

“Hey, you, the one with the bow, what’s your name?” he says, pointing at the filly.

“Ah’m Applebloom, and how’d ya make these things?” comes the reply, the filly smiling.

“I spawned ‘em; don’t you recognize me?”

“No, should I?” she asks, looking confused.

“Yeah, remember the faceless thing you saw earlier? That was me.”

“What? Why do you have a face now?”

“It was a mask, wanna see it?”

“Ah guess.” she says with a shrug, but a small unicorn peers over the golem’s steely mane.

“They’re your babies?”

“No, I made them earlier, that would be weird if they were my babies...and it would’ve hurt a lot.” Slendy said.

“Yer... a girl?” Applebloom asked.

“Nope. I am a guy. Oh, and here’s the mask.” Slendy said as he revealed the mask which to the fillies just looked like a white cloth bag of some sort.

“Uh, you can’t see through a solid mask.” the orange pegasus says. “Pshh, that’s silly. How’d you know where you were going without eyeholes?” Slendy goes to answer, but she interrupts him, “And what kinda superhero were you trying to be, anyways? Nopony who’s a good gal in the comics wears a mask like that.” she says, rolling her eyes in a way that says the ‘duh!’ for her.

“Guys can be heroes too!”

“Uh, of course guys can be heroes too, but it’s really rare. And Deadpone isn’t that popular. He just says a bunch of weird things that I think are supposed to be jokes, but I think he’s just silly. Even Sweetie Belle says the words don’t mean what she thinks he’s trying to say, it’s all gibberish.” Sweetie nods in agreement.

“Fine, but here, try the mask on, you really can see through it, you can even drink through it.”

“Eww! No way, it smells like sweaty colts and old juice boxes!” she says, gagging and leaning away from the proffered.

“Fine…” Slendy sounds very put-upon, but the fillies don’t seem to notice, now getting embroiled in a conversation about which heroes are better, Scootaloo suggesting Batmane, Applebloom saying that the Power Ponies are the best, and Sweetie insisting that the Vengeance Mares are better.

“What is... a comic book?” Hunter asked, lost and confused by the term. “Is it... a catalogue of humor?”

“It’s a graphic novel, pictures in the place of words, although there are words in it but mostly pictures.” Slendy tries to explain.

This explanation, however, just leaves Hunter further lost.

“So... you read them... for what?”

“Entertainment purposes mostly.”

“Okay...” Hunter replies, unconvinced that a book that was mostly pictures could be entertaining. Most of his notes involving pictures tried to capture detail for education and better recognition. Reading for no purpose seemed a waste of time to him.

“So, Apple Bloom, what’s this town called?” Slendy asks the filly.

“Ponyville.”

“Shoulda known, kinda like how they say cancer in spanish.”

“What’s ‘Spanish’?” the unicorn asked

“It is another language spoken in a part of the world south of where we are from.” Slendy replies.

“Cabollish, you mean? Cabollena is south of us, but it’s a pretty different place. There’s also the jungles, where Daring Do collects treasure!” Scootaloo butts in.

“We aren’t from here, and Cabollish sounds pretty cool.” Slendy replies.

Hunter, losing interest in the conversation, returns to the market, hoping to find Shady Leaves. And to follow after Faolon to see what the wolf considered ‘protecting the town.’

“You think Faolon will be okay?”

Hunter shrugs as he leaves. “As long as the ponies continue their fearful distance, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Good, cause I worry about the little guy, y’know?” Slendy says looking off in the direction Faolon went.

“Hmmm.” Hunter replied wordlessly as he left earshot.

“Sorry I scared you earlier.” Slendy apologizes.

“Scared who?” Scootaloo asks, genuinely curious. None of the three had been near where Slendy was, except Applebloom, who hadn’t been scared so much as uncomfortable.

“Huh, oh well anyways, what is there to do around here that’s fun?”

“Well... There’s...” Apple Bloom starts, thinking about the usual things she does, but most of them involved specifically her friends or family. “There’s a... bowling alley?”

“Is that it? Man, guess I gotta find a hobby or something to kill some time here.” Slendy says as he looks at his cube “Maybe I could work on the cube, lord knows i need to work on my coding.”

“Granny Smith says that time wasted is time you don’t deserve... er somethin like that.” Applebloom states, warning against the vice of sloth.

“Good words to live by, so can I ask you three something?”

“Go ahead.” Sweetie says.

“Whatcha wanna know?” Scootaloo finished for her friend.

“Who is the owner of the farm on the edge of town? I walked there earlier with my mask on and got kicked out by some mare in a hat.”

“Yeah... Applejack don’t like nopony who seems off, and... what’s that place Twilight said weird-folk come from?”

“Uncanny valley!” Sweetie Belle suggests.

“Yeah, AJ hates freaks, and liars or ponies who try to hide stuff.” Scootaloo informs. “She’s nice, but not great with weird stuff.”

“Is so!” Applebloom shouts, supporting her sister.

“Oh yeah, remember when Zecora came by and she thought you got foalnapped or whatever? She was pretty angry.”

“And scared.” Sweetie chimes in. “And this guy is way weirder than Zecora.”

“Ah guess...” Applebloom relents the point, ending the mild argument. “But Applejack don’t own the whole farm, if’n ya wanna make good, pal up with mah Granny Smith, she’ll get some sense inta Applejack... still might not like you though.”

“Well I guess that could work, can you lead me there? I get lost rather easily.” Slendy admits.

Applebloom looks at Slendy, and the other fillies follow suit.

“Uh... can you see the big red thing on that hill?” Sweetie asks, indicating to a large building off in the distance.

“That’s the barn.” Scootaloo clarifies.

“Mah house is right next to it, you can find Granny there most of the time. She’s old and don’t go out much no more.” Apple Bloom finishes.

“Okay, thanks you three, I’ll head out and talk to your granny, wish me luck!” Slendy says as he walks towards the farm.

“Why would he need luck just walking somewhere?” Sweetie thinks out loud, to which the other Crusaders shrug confusedly. After a bit, the three return their attention to the ponified iron golem and begin their second attempt at scaling it.

After a little while Slendy arrives once again at the farm, this time however the mare with the hat, Applejack, the kids called her, is nowhere to be seen.

It’s a rather long trek, but he gets to the farmhouse and knocks on the door.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Yep there is, ah’m in ‘ere. What’ya need stranger?” A woman calls in from inside the house.

“I just wanted to make peace with you and Apple...Buck? I forgot her name.” Slendy admits.

“Aw pony feathers.” The woman exclaims, the sound of a rocking chair creaking following afterwards. “Well, come on in then. What’ya do ta get ‘er all ruffled about?”

“I was walking here earlier and she said I looked terrifying and told me to “git”.”

“Looked terrifyin’? Were ya actually tryin’ to scare folks?”

“No, I just was wearing my mask, it is my namesake afterall.” Slendy explains as he opens the door revealing an old pale green mare in a rocking chair.

The old mare takes a long gander at him for a moment, obviously off put by not being familiar with seeing someone like him. “Well, jus’ as ya are ah can see how you’d scare some fillies.”

“Yeah… I just wanted to be friends or atleast not have them hate me like Zecora, I just keep screwing up.” He says as he walks over to the old mare and pops a seat next to her.

“Ah can’t speak for the zebra that lives in the forest, but Applejack can be very forgivin’, she don’t hold onto grudges much.” She smirks, “An’ she has tried, it jus’ becomes too much work for ‘er to stay angry at somepony.”

“Okay thanks, wanna see the mask she said was terrifying?”

“Ah think ah’d do jus’ fine without seein’ it.” Granny waves a hoof, “But tell ya what, try apologizin’ to ‘er an’ see what she says.”

“So do I have your approval to come back to talk and stuff? I don’t wanna anger her anymore than I already have…stupid mask.”

“Did this happen today?” She asks.

“Yeah, like an hour or two ago I think, I really should get a watch.”

“Oh…” She said, tilting her head down, “How ‘bout ya wait till tomorrow then? Probably better ta give her at least some time ta cool off.”

“Okay, and thanks for talking with me.”

“Well of course!” She smiled, “Now unless ya need somethin’ else there sunny, ah gots ta finish mah nap so ah got the energy for makin’ dinner.” Granny leans back in her rocking chair and starts to close her eyes.

“Have a nice nap there, bye.” He says as he gets up and heads for the door.”Oh, also let’s pretend I was never here, don’t wanna make this worse before it gets better, ya know?”

The old mare yawns and waves a hoof, “Sure thing.”And with command block in hand Slendy leaves the house and heads back to his glass house.

chapter 9 Quietude and Paranoia

Marcus woke with a start, looking around in confusion before he noticed he was in the small glade his... their home was now situated. He stands, brushing off his clothes, before heading for his tower. He needs to get together materials, especially if he’s planning to teach the young unicorn the ways of true magic.

Something stops him though, a feeling of unease. He glances around the glade, deep shadows ringing the brightly lit interior. His brows furrow, trying to piece together why the peaceful, pleasant area, with its faintly chirping birds, is making him so unsettled. He’s seen and done to himself unspeakable things - so why is this carefree field making him nervous? It hits him after nearly a minute of nervous shuffling towards the door of his keep:

There’s nothing dangerous out there.

No zombies had come to try devouring him in his sleep, no creepers had tried to seed their spores on a freshly-mangled corpse, no spiders had tried to make a meal of him, nor skeletons to turn him into a pincushion... and if the sun’s position is any indicator, he’d been asleep for awhile, long enough for it to be just about dusk.

His eyes blink, glowing a vivid red-orange as he looks into the darkness, expecting to see a veritable horde of patient, murderous cadavers, instead being greeted with dense but healthy undergrowth and a minor patch of toadstools unlike any he’s used to finding. Though, he would be forced to admit he doesn’t actually know the difference between toadstools and mushrooms, if there even is a distinction.

This far into the woods, dark as they are, there should be undead moans filling the air, and the clacking of animated bones; and yet... there is nothing but the occasional, rather melodious tune sung by a bird of some variety. If there were indeed even a creeper around, their mere presence would have surely frightened away any smaller creatures.

There’s no chittering, slithery-sounding steps of eight chitin-clad legs travelling through the undergrowth, nor the more distinctive thuds of the giant spider’s even larger cousin, rare as they are.

The only thing potentially hostile that he could even recall being near their camp were the Silverfish, who were sleeping, or waiting, but would not move unless their stony homes were disturbed. It was very unnerving, but the mere knowledge of the presence of the miniscule beasts eased the tension just a bit, by having some of the fear having a specific origin, rather than potentially coming from any angle possible.

He stepped inside, eyes returning to normal as he looks over the decently-lit interior. Speaking to himself, he mutters, “I need to make an axe, get some wood, gather materials for paper... at least I don’t have to start with mere iron for my wand cap.” He begins looking through the pre-made chests throughout the building, seeing if there’s anything that was generated into them when Slendy created the tower.

The closest he finds is a loaf of bread in an item frame, and a few item frames on a set of storage chests, indicating one is for dirt, one for wood, one for cobblestone, and one for... fence? He’s not sure what to think of that last tag.

Taking the log and the cobblestone from the frame, he sighs. “Well... I guess I need to go punch some trees and get wood that way.” he comments, looking out a window. “... but it’s dark out. Damn...” he says, and sits back on a couple of wool blocks with signs on them, pretending to be a bed. “Well, at least I’m rested.”

Morning comes, and he shifts in place, having been pulling apart the solid log pillar in the center of his house all night, a small assortment of stone tools now arranged in front of him on the workbench. “Alright, good enough for me-” A sudden hiss erupts from behind him, and he lunges to the side in reflexive terror, spinning about as he rolls back to his feet, dagger in hand, to lunge at the cree-

He looks around his workshop, heart hammering in his chest, the room uninhabited save by himself, and he slowly breathes a shaky sigh of relief. He leans back against the cool stone walls, and tries to relax, the thundering in his breast like the maddened beating of a war-drum.

Wiping his eyes, he begins to gather up his new tools, those being multiple shovels, a couple axes, a trio of pickaxes, and a single stone sword, the blade crude but serviceable. He straps one of each tool to himself, pick at his side, shovel and sword on his back, and axe in hand as he heads towards the dense trees, intent on chopping a few to the ground. A few swift smacks with the stone-headed axe and a meter-tall segment of the oddly skinny log pops free - and the whole tree above him comes down, startling and surprising him.

He gapes in confusion at the tall, oak-like tree that has just been toppled by him, muttering a faint epithet. “What, by Notch’s holy apples, was that?!” he whispers in awe. He’d never seen a tree act like that. Even those crazy metallurgists, the Tinkers, had axes that simply took the entire tree down in one fell stroke, not this... madness of falling treetops.

“Still,” he considers, “It certainly makes the top of the tree easier to get to.” he makes quick work of the tree, getting far more logs than expected from it and collapsing them into the thin bands of energy that enters his inventory. The work is exhausting, but only because of its tedium, and he grows steadily more irritable as he goes through one strange, collapsing tree after another, unable to find a single Sapling among the scattered branches - which linger for an unnaturally long time, still there when he finally decides to leave.

The next thing he needs, he realizes, is a bucket to transport water to and fro. But for that, he’d need iron, and... well, mining just isn’t very interesting to him. Nothing but gray walls and darkness, an endless sense of something being around every corner... it’s no place for a researcher.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely notices that he’s walked most of the way to town, his legs carrying him through the woods carelessly in search of something to engage his mind... though the trek is halted when he finds himself stepping with a squelch into a thick patch of mud and clay. Looking down, he beams happily as he recognizes the material, despite the odd coloration from his perspective. Whipping out the wand he’s used to, he activates the dark green focus and begins to churn and remove the abundance of clay from the riverbank, gouging out an unsightly tract through it. He almost leaves it, too, but decides to cover it over with a layer of dirt, though that still looks out of place, with its crisp edges and corners, but he just shrugs and writes it off as an idiosyncrasy of the local area.

Wandering away from the riverbank, he heads into town once again, blithely ignoring a small patch of tilled ground further upstream. Or, rather, he fails to notice it, too intent on his goals of finding someone interested in the further clay tiling he has to see it.

Walking around, he eventually finds himself in a marketplace, surrounded on all sides by the ponies. Shifting nervously in place, he tries to find a spot to set up and begin hucking his wares, but a curious sense of claustrophobia begins to overcome him, and he can’t seem to escape the press of bodies all around, even though he stands head and shoulders above even the largest of them.

They weren’t malicious, far from it. They, after a brief adjustment, greeted him. Waving and smiling at the newcomer. As if... as if he was one of them or something. Beckoning him like a Siren to become one of them, join the crowd of almost-too-happy ponies and... the thought scares him. There were too many. Everywhere he looked there were more of them.

Beginning to hyperventilate, he beats a hasty, nervous retreat, face flushed with shame at being driven out by such a warm welcome. Ducking hastily into a narrow alley and ignoring the concerned looks all around, he sits down in the empty passage, head in hands and trying to convince himself it’s not so bad.

Suddenly, he felt something odd, a faint pressure on his knee, and he peeks out from his cage of fingers. A small pony child, with a powder-blue mane and purple eyes, was standing in front of him, looking concerned. “A- are you okay, mister?” the child asks.

He draws a slow, shuddering break and closes his eyes again. “No... no I am not...” he whispers, quiet enough the child doesn’t hear what he’s saying. “I will be fine.” he says more clearly. The lie is transparent even to the child.

“Well... whenever I’m sad, I usually just cry until I’ve thought enough about why I’m sad and... usually I’m less sad after that.” The filly offers.

“I don’t cry.” he says, stiffly, face still hidden by his hands.

“Then... what do you do when you’re sad?” the child asks, not comprehending the idea of refusing a specific emotion.

“I don’t get sad.” his voice is turning waspish.

“Why not?” The unnamed foal asks, honestly curious.

“B-because only the weak get sad. It’s a flaw to excise.” he says, sounding a bit more pompous.

“A flaw to what? I don’t know... a lotta words...” The child admits. “But even big-ponies cry, my mommy does sometimes whenever I get sad.”

He looks down at the filly, spreading his hands and looking ineffably ancient for a moment before chuckling. “It means to remove or pull out. Like if you get a splinter, it needs to be taken out so it doesn’t hurt anymore.” he explains. Teaching the small pony makes him feel a little lighter, somehow.

“Oh... well, why do you wanna get rid of sadness? I mean, it’s not fun, but... it’s just something everypony does, right?”

“Yes, but I want to be better than everyone, and then make everyone better as well.” he explains, relaxing as he moves to a more common criss-cross sitting style.

For her part, the foal is confused and just has trouble understanding the idea of trying to be ‘better than everyone else’ and then want to make everyone else better after. To her... “That kinda sounds like you want everypony to be the same... but your way? I dunno, that sounds... weird.”

“I suppose it does sound a little odd,” his admission does make him put on a thoughtful tone and visage, “but what I mean is that I wish to make myself better to prove I can do it, and then share that with everyone else.”

The little filly is not very impressed with the re-wording. “Oh.” a silence follows.

The pair lapse into silence. “Thank you.” he speaks up, quite suddenly.

The filly tilts her head in confusion before realizing that, by talking with her, he didn’t look sad anymore. “You’re welcome!” She pauses. “What are you gonna do now that you’re better?”

“Uhm... I’ll probably find somewhere else to try selling from. I need to make some money.” he says. “You wouldn’t happen to know anybody who needs a better roof, by any chance...? He asks leadingly.

“Uh... No, I dunno that many ponies. But if you need money, my mommy and I sometimes make little thingies and ponies buy ‘em from us ‘cause they say it’s cute... What can you make?”

A blink as he considers that. “Well, I can make quite a few things, but I don’t know if any of it would be ‘cute’. World-shatteringly powerful, yes, but not ‘cute’.”

“Like what?” The filly asked curiously.

“A Sword of the Zephyr - it’s a blade that can allow its wielder to fly, throw enemies to the ends of the earth, and even launch allies high into the air!” he says, grinning broadly. “I can also make golems able to fight off the most powerful of enemies, and I’ve been tinkering around with a crossbow design that can shoot magic bolts.” A pause. “Oh, drat, I’ll need to start that research all over again...”

“...I don’t know if ponies would buy things like that.” The child replies, and as the sun starts to get lower, a mare’s voice is heard of in the near-distance. Calling for a ‘Cotton’ to come back. The filly next to Marcus nods in the direction of the voice. “Mommy wants me. G’bye mister.”

“Goodbye, child.” he says, smiling faintly. He stands up in a far better headspace than before, and looks around. Maybe he can find someplace near an alley like this to sell from; he could easily set up translocation spaces once he’s more settled in. He’ll need a more dedicated infusion Focus, but he doesn’t think that’ll be too difficult to acquire once researched.

Focussing on the quiet all around, muffled hustle and bustle at the far end of the alley, he gets to work hunting for a more effective location to set up a place to advertise his capabilities.

chapter 10 Night of the First Day

Earlier that night...

While the town was returning to their homes to rest for the night, the skyline bathed in a light orange, Hunter was unsure of what to do. He could return to the aquarium for the night and sleep, but it wasn’t quite night yet, and he still had several questions about the plants he had found.

Retracing his steps, he came to the library, and while the giant tree was quiet and dark, there was a light on in one of the windows on the upper floor, likely a faint candle given it’s slow flickering. Assuming that someone was at least awake enough to be up and about, or at least not asleep, Hunter decides to try and ask about perhaps doing a bit of late studying.

Walking up to the door of the giant tree, he finds that it is locked. For the time being, he ponders if perhaps it’s a little too late for a public place to be open. Nevertheless, someone was inside and he didn’t think he would be a bother, as long as he stayed quiet and left without taking anything. Knocking on the door a few times, he gets no response. After waiting patiently for several minutes, he decides that he must not have been heard and so he should try again in the morning.

A few idle thoughts cross his mind as he walks around town, the darkening sky revealing small twinkling lights overhead. Hunter was used to this sight and it felt rather comforting having some aspects of the world being the same as he was accustomed to. It really was an interesting world, but the amount of things he didn’t know about this place brought a slight... tension to his bearings. He wasn’t nearly as knowledgeable about this place as he’d like, and that put him at a severe disadvantage.

So many questions, but nobody to ask until morning it seemed, since the whole town has been shrouded in night and a silent stillness fills the air. Looking back at the library and seeing that one faint light still on despite all the other buildings being dark. Continuing his idle trek, Hunter comes across one of the tireless iron golems idly wandering around town. The large, bulky shape of its body casting a lengthy shadow on the ground, Hunter pondered how he could make the most of his first night. He didn’t feel tired at the moment, and he was sure that if he kept looking around he’d find something he could do now that he couldn’t in the daylight.

His mind went back to his crops. They weren’t mature enough to harvest, and so the Mandrake who normally had to be harvested at night would not have developed enough to be useful, and he realized that his crops, without proper lighting, likely wouldn’t grow very well in the woods that were so dark, even during the day.

He didn’t have any mutandis, or eggs to make some with, so Glintweed was unavailable... he’d have to find some other way. His mind wandered from one solution to the next as he idly continued down the path he had chosen at random. Finally deciding that he would likely need to build a fire, he thought about how to go about building one. He’d need stone to stand around the fire to prevent it from spreading, and some wood for fuel.

Sighing as he continued thinking about his problem, it all stemmed from the root of him needing tools and materials. He’d have to, for the most part, start from the very beginning. He began looking around the Town, wondering what he could see that might be useful. He could always make crude tools out of wood, but they always felt so uncomfortable to him. He’d much rather see if he could find a place he could buy a few tools that were already made.

But he’d need the local currency for that, and he wouldn’t have any money until he turned in his collection of plants to Shady in the morning. Unsure of what to do with his free time and lack of money, he decided he might as well find a place to gather more plants. Even if they turned out mundane, he’d at least have learned a few things about the local flora, which was his entire goal.

With nothing else to do, Hunter begins looking around for any odd-looking or otherwise noteworthy foliage. Finding little more than grass and such, he decides he’d probably have to continue searching around the forest in order to find something worthy of reproducing. Though the Everfree was surely dangerous this late at night, he decided to check around the outskirts of town and hopefully find something special that the ponies didn’t bother dealing with.

Walking off the road and heading in a direction he identified as ‘east’ by the position of the moon, eventually finding himself near the border of the Everfree again, the town bordered on this side by a shallow, clear stream.

Hunter thought a bit about the stream. Looking closer he found that the flow of the water was relatively calm and with a bit of modification, would be perfect for growing Water Artichoke. Taking some of the seeds from his robe, he began trying to till the earth underneath the water and prepare it, though his efforts were lesser than he remembered. Come to think of it, it was the same in the forest. His results were passable but not ideal and he had originally blamed it on the nature of the forest... but here, it seems he’d need to put a bit more effort into farming in this world.

Setting his hoe to the side, Hunter knelt down and began digging at the streambed, hoping to rearrange the dirt. He wasn’t sure what exactly was wrong, but clearly the dirt needed some ‘help’, and after a few moments, the usual stream of dirt-brown energy travels up his arm and into his storage, that intangible inventory all their kind have.

A quick inspection of the energy show it to be a normal cube of dirt... and a Ball of Mud? That’s new... and completely useless to Hunter. Sighing, he discards the ball on the riverbank and returns the Dirt to its original place at the bottom of the little stream. He notes that, indeed, digging up the dirt had changed it slightly, made it more akin to the dirt he was familiar with and, once replaced and tilled easily, the underwater soil gladly accepted his seeds. He’d have to remember this trick for his garden back in the forest, as even though he didn’t know what the exact problem was, he now had the solution to his earlier problems.

Deciding that he may as well let the artichoke grow, he returned his attention to the forest. It didn’t have a trail leading into it from this end, and he figured that if he was going to encounter anything new, it would definitely be along the path less travelled. Or the path nonexistent in this case. Sure it was dark and dangerous, but the blade he had gotten from Slendy would likely help deter any minor troubles at the very least.

“Hunter! You there?! I’m lost...again” Slendy calls out from the nearby forest-edge. Hunter calls back with assurance of his presence and, following where he heard the voice coming from, ventures into the forest to find his friend.

“Hey, where are you? And have you seen any creepers?” Slendy calls back.

“No.” Hunter replies calmly, still following the voice. “I have not. Have you?”

“No, I haven’t either, is this world bugged?” Slendy asks.

The concept of Peaceful worlds, places of utopian safety, is not an unknown concept to the people of the Minecraft world. Indeed, they figure primarily in the dominant ‘religious’ movement, speaking of the Alphane era, wherein all were gods, onwards to the Betacian period of great upheaval and change. But to end up in one is like ending up in heaven; impossible while alive, and there’s no doubt Hunter is still alive, given his time fleeing for his life.

Hunter hums to himself, thinking about the lack of mobs. It was very interesting that he hadn’t seen any, but nights of going out, armed with an Arthana and the goal of returning with rare drops ending with not a single mob found was, though rare, something he experienced enough to call it ‘bad luck’. “I thought it was just an Unlucky Night. Either that or everything was hiding to prepare an ambush.”

“Right? I thought I would at least run into a skeleton or spider, but I’ve found nothing, I’m a little disappointed to be honest.” Slendy admits as he leaves the forest, coming into moonlit view.

Hunter nods. “Whether it is a good thing or a bad thing I’m not sure, but I know this place has predators, and as such, we may still have to be careful. The thought occurs that perhaps this world has its own dangers, not ones we are familiar with.” after his musing, Hunter continued towards Slendy, and looking around the forest edge to see if he could spot a landmark he might recognize. Finding none and realizing he and Slendy were absolutely in a place neither had traveled before, he gave a small smile of apology. “Come, let us be lost together.”

Slendy looked around. “... we should get compasses.”

“I’m afraid I have neither spare iron, nor redstone with which to make one.” Hunter informed his friend. “We have two options from here. We may wander inside the forest and try to find our way, or stay outside and walk along its edge until we come across familiar territory.”

“As someone once said, if you’re going to do something, might as well over do it! So let’s go in the forest.” Slendy answers.

“Well, in that case, you may need this.” Hunter says, handing Slendy back the diamond sword. “Just in case.”

“Worst case scenario, I spawn TNT, and blow our enemies to bits.” Slendy says.

“Considering your... aim, that would indeed be the worst-case scenario, yes.” Hunter replies, sighing at Slendy’s quickness to leap at chances to be destructive.

“Alright, enough talk, time to....” Slendy inhales, ”Adventure!”

Hunter takes a cautious look around to make sure nothing had awoken angrily at Slendy’s outburst, and, readjusting his robe around his shoulders, begins walking into the deeper parts of the forest, the light of the moon quickly fading behind the thick canopy of trees. Finding plants, let alone their way, would be difficult at best.

“It is getting harder and harder to see due to these trees, can I blow them up now?” Slendy asks.

Hunter frowns, “I think we might do better to chop them down instead, so that their wood does not go to waste.”

“Okay, got a spare axe with you?” Slendy asks looking at Hunter.

“No, but assuming you have your command block, I could.” Hunter says.

“Oh, right, doy! I’ll just spawn them, give me a second…” Slendy says as he fiddles with his block, eventually spawning two diamond... axles. “Crap, let me try again.” Slendy tries yet again but only manages to spawn gold axes this time. “These should work, right?”

Hunter nods, taking one and putting it away for the time being. He could still see well enough and he could simply use his bare hands as a last resort, opting to save the axe for later should it become useful.

The two begin to bash at the wood, finding the same strange properties to the trees as Marcus would later in the morning, and puzzle over it as they work. Quickly and efficiently, the two clear a sizable chunk of the woods out, razed almost to the ground. In the process, they also revealed two interesting plants and a few dozen assorted fungi.

The two flowers are a single bloom that looks like a crescent moon, and is pointed like a sunflower at the moon above, easily plucked and still pointing diligently at the celestial body even when moved around or rotated.

The other is more sinister-seeming, a blanket of black fog surrounding it, only a few inches high. The fog perfectly obscures the ground, but the flower itself is like a rose-shaped hole into the depths of space.

Looking at the fogged plant with interest; he considered taking it like he did the first one, but thinks better of it after a second thought. Rather than simply plucking the plant from the earth, Hunter begins digging at the dirt around the plant and dexterously unrooting the rose-like flower, to make the picking process much easier.

The flower, connected to an extensive root system, comes up with the block of earth it was on, gripping the ground tenaciously. The dark fog rolling off the flower seems chillingly cold, but not painfully so. It is, in fact, only mildly unpleasant, like being stuck outside unprepared on a clear, cold night.

Storing the flower and deciding to get a name and explanation later, Hunter continues to lead Slendy through the woods as they slowly create a small path of cut trees, the logs being converted into the usual ribbons of energy and stored for later.

So paired, the two make their way towards the campsite, much better equipped to find their way between them than alone, collecting a large amount of the wood along the way. Hunter, as well, notes that none of the branches, covered in leaves, are decaying into nothing yet, and there’s no Saplings at all to be found.

That last part is more concerning than anything else so far.

He would have to inquire about that in the future, as he knew for a fact he’d need Exhale of the Horned one soon after he sets up his oven for cooking saplings into fumes. Deciding that fretting about the admittedly very major issue now would do no good, he resigns to asking Shady Leaves in the morning. If she didn’t know, it’s likely that the library had what he needed. If all else fails, Slendy might be able to assist.

The friends find their way back, arriving in the small clearing without further incident, though wolves of varying kinds howl in the far distance, catching Hunter’s attention briefly. There’s movement in Marcus’ tower, and the young man sounds busy. Other than that, there’s a relative dearth of interesting things going on in the dark forest; there isn’t even the sounds of monsters in the distance other than the wolves, and those are far away.

Hunter, for his part, heads over to his garden and, using his newfound knowledge of how to prepare the local soil, begins renovating it and, in little time, has a fully-tilled area waiting for various seedlings. Without much else to do and deciding that time is best spent on work now to make way for later relaxation, Hunter works late into the morning on tending his plants as best he knows how, leaving the more... local flora to be planted later once he had more information on how to care for them.

In the light of the fading moon and the coming sun, his garden seemed fairly prepared. Hunter nods to himself a job well-done and heads for the aquarium to rest for a few hours.