Bushkeeper

Chapters

1 - Surroundings
2 - Herds
3 - Families
4 - Thoughts
5 - Grasslands
6 - Species
7 - Questions
8 - Apparitions
9 - Berries
10 - Words
11 - Interests
12 - Conflicts
13 - Heights
14 - Meats
15 - Fights
16 - Deserters
17 - Goals
18 - Prophecies
19 - Gifts
20 - Gods
21 - Preparations
23 - Plans
24 - Lessons
25 - Storms
26 - Fantasies
27 - Baths
28 - Songs
30 - Breaks
31 - Stories
32 - Neighbors
33 - The Lands Around Us
34 - The Thriving People
35 - The Winters Yonder
37 - The Collapse of Innocence
38 - The Antithesis
39 - Their Security
40 - From Their Land
41 - Their Home Was Built
43 - Through Their Individuality
Till Sleep Claimed Him
Prologue
22 - The Northern Exodus
29 - Directions
42 - With Their Knowledge
The Keeper Kept

1 - Surroundings

Surroundings

For what it was worth, Andrew decided that having his hand brushing through the soft mane of an azure unicorn was much more easier to handle than a ten story hydra chasing him through a muddy swamp.

“I’ve never seen anything like you before.” The mare’s ears perked up at his voice. She delicately picked out another blueberry from Andrew’s removed hood. Andrew couldn’t help but grin at the sight of the unicorn holding a blueberry in her teeth. “But you’re adorable, I’ll give you that.” In reply, she chomped down on the blueberry. As the mare returned her attention to the makeshift bag, Andrew settled down into a more comfortable position, sitting cross-legged before the standing mare. Andrew blinked at the profound height difference as he found himself down at eye level with the unicorn. “And small.”

Andrew wasn’t one to go hiking in the middle of the woods, but he also wasn’t one to leave his friends hanging. He had only been traveling for less than a week when he’d begun to lose track of his surroundings and his friends a lot more often. Despite his usually eagle-eyed nature, the teenager had become the butt of many of his friends’ jokes; the name Clueless had stuck with them most.

The azure unicorn’s head shot upwards as a branch snapped somewhere nearby. Andrew followed her gaze to a bush on the opposite side of the small stream they sat by, just in time to watch a small squirrel appear. Whinnying, the pony returned to feasting on the berries from Andrew’s hood.

“Hey, hey!” Andrew laughed as he pulled the hood away, the unicorn seemingly have forgotten whatever manners it held as it made a bright red mess over the forest floor. A little brighter than usual, Andrew observed. The azure mare looked up at him, eyes lacking intelligence and mouth covered in red mush. Andrew snickered and went to wipe the mess away with the back of his sleeve. The unicorn pulled back a little as he approached, but moved no further as it crossed its eyes, quietly watching the human clean her muzzle.

“And apparently messy as well!”

The mare snorted, stamping her hoof. "More berries!" she seemed to chant as she moved forward to her meal.

Andrew shook his head, eyes bright with mirth as he eyed the small clearing.

Checking his watch, Andrew noted that it had been about four hours since he had last seen his friends at camp, even shorter than that since he had last seen them while trekking. The squirrel from earlier splashed about in the stream, now joined by two other squirrels. Chortling at their natural bath, Andrew looked around for a stray acorn he had seen earlier and tossed it to them. Much to Andrew's surprise, one of the brown critters caught the acorn midair. With an identifiable thumbs up, the squirrel threw the acorn into its mouth and continued its bath.

Andrew blinked.

“I’ll just…” He scratched his head. “Huh.” A nudge of his knee and a snort returned Andrew from the strange sight, alerting him to the unicorn’s desire for more berries.

"Yeesh.” He picked up the now empty hood, messy from the massacre of berries. He looked at the unicorn, brows furrowed. “You’re a hungry one, aren’t ya?” He got another nudge to his knee via muzzle in reply. Andrew smiled at the incredibly calm creature and went over to the stream to wash what he could from the hood. The squirrels all seemed to be content with the tall, strange creature washing right across from them.

'What a strange place,' Andrew thought. He sighed, remembering the lack of weight on his back. 'And dangerous, too.'

“C’mon, you,” Andrew said as he walked past the unicorn. “I’ll show you the hidden thicket.”

Brushing aside another vine, which Andrew took a moment to curse the large amount of, Andrew pushed his way into the second clearing that he knew of; a clearing full of blueberry bushes. He glanced back at the unicorn following him, chuckling as the creature seemed to go wide eyed at the amount of berries. Walking over to the closest part of the thicket, he began picking berries and throwing them into his hood. Andrew turned around, ready to submit his meager offering to the unicorn. He resisted the urge to let out a large laugh in fear of scaring off the magnificent beast.

Magnificent, a little strong of a term to use.

“I turn around for one second,” he chuckled, stepping over the unicorn as she attempted to pull her head free of the branches of a blueberry bush. She popped out, shaking her head roughly and whinnying. He crouched down before the mare and grabbed a handful of berries from his hood. The mare did not hesitate, instantly snatching a berry from Andrew's offered hand, munching in bliss.

“Man, do you ever stop eating?” Andrew let the berries roll from his hand and settled down himself, knees ahead of him. He sighed in content as he popped a berry into his mouth.

“Yeah, I don’t think I would be able to stop eating these if it weren’t for the snack I had before that hydra.”

The unicorn idly flicked an ear in his direction. "Mmm," it hummed. "These are great."

“Aren’t they though?” Andrew paused, hand frozen midair. He tossed the berry back into the hood and placed his elbows on his knees, watching the unicorn carefully. “Can… can you talk?” The azure unicorn brought her head up and stared at him, unmoving. It quickly became awkward as far, faint birdsong, filled in the otherwise silent clearing.

“Uh…” He fumbled around by his side for the berries, and held one in front of him with his hand. “One berry per word?” Naturally, his weak attempt at negotiation was ignored, and with equally unnatural intelligence, the unicorn brought his hand over the hood with her muzzle and forced him to drop the berry with a nibble.

“Yowch!” He pulled back suddenly, but was immediately brought forward again as the unicorn grabbed onto the sleeve of his hoodie and dragged him forward. “Woah!” He scrambled for the makeshift sack, picking it up just in time to be pulled to his feet. “Wow, you’re surprisingly strongaaaaa!”

“Slow down!” Andrew shouted as the unicorn pulled him by the sleeve through the woods. “Yipe!” He narrowly dodged a branch from smacking him in the face. “Yo unicorn, this isn’t cool anymore!” His legs quickly began to speed up as he was forced to keep up with the unicorn’s gallop. Despite his new situation, Andrew remembered to keep track of the fast-moving surroundings before he lost the berry thicket.

The unicorn’s speed turned out to not be that fast as Andrew recovered from his epinephrine surge. In fact, it was quite a brisk walk for a constant jogger like Andrew. He took the time to enjoy the breeze on his face as the pony galloped, leading him onward towards an unknown destination. Five minutes later, the unicorn had begun to slow down to a trot and let go of Andrew’s sleeve. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and checked his sleeve for damage.

“You’re lucky you didn’t ruin my—oof!” A surprised whinny erupted from the mare as the two tumbled over, a result of Andrew’s carelessness. Andrew recovered quickly from the fall and stood, dusting himself off. Before he could get one word out, he realized that there was something strange about the clearing they had emerged into.

Or rather, the lack of a small 'clearing.'

“Wow…” Andrew muttered, clutching his hood close to his chest as he took a step forward. “This is… beautiful.”

Ahead of him for what was obviously miles was a great green plain of daisies, poppies, and lilacs. No trees stood in sight, save for the forest behind him. A river splashed quietly off to the right, stretching out into the distance ahead. Dotting the horizon were various snow capped mountains with one very close by; a fifteen minute walk by Andrew’s estimate. There were even the telltale beginnings of a mountain blocked valley very far away, almost entirely out of Andrew's sight. Birds soared freely in the partially cloudy, bright afternoon sky.

“Dangerous, strange, and now beautiful. What is this place?” Andrew was brought out of his moment of reverie by the mint mare nickering from his side.

"Hello!" it called.

“Huh?” He looked to the unicorn, only to watch her disappear as she galloped off to a herd of more unicorns further ahead.

More unicorns, all of varying shades and sizes.

They greeted the azure unicorn with happy nickering and nuzzles. After a moment, however, the mare turned to him, whinnying, and the herd soon followed her gaze and stared at Andrew. Suddenly, Andrew felt very much like he was under a spotlight. The mare began to walk towards him again, and after a moment, the herd of twelve began to follow her. As the mare finally came up to him, she nickered once more and nudged his hood with her snout.

“I… I don’t think I have enough blueberries for all of you,” Andrew laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Andrew watched the azure mare blink, suddenly feeling a thought come to his mind. A smile grew on his face. “But I do know a place where I can get more for all of you.”

Andrew certainly wasn’t the next great survivalist of the wilderness, but he did know a thing or two about surviving off of the land.

“I’ve got the flint!” Andrew cheered as he entered the clearing. Blueberry mash lay strewn everywhere, with equally assorted placements of resting unicorns. “Took me a while, but I finally found some.”

A white unicorn foal, age clear from the small size of the creature, struggled to its hooves and grabbed with its mouth a stick from the firewood pile that Andrew had collected. Andrew smiled as he leant down, accepting the stick from the foal. “Thanks, little guy.” A snort from an equally white mare brought the foal rushing back to her side. Andrew chuckled and walked over to a pit of rocks he had erected.

After setting up a teepee of the dry sticks and setting aside some grass for tinder, Andrew snatched up the rock designated as the base of the firestarter and went to work with the flint. In just a few tries, he had sparked a flame in the grass and carefully placed it into the pile. Smiling with pride, Andrew settled down before the fire, just in time for the moon to peak into the sky above the green canopy.

It had been clear for a while that Andrew was completely separated from his friends. Oddly enough, he did not feel frightened in the least. He attributed it to the new friends he had made, as he was not as lonely as he would’ve been. He had set about establishing a base camp, starting with a shelter. It was easily accomplished, consisting of a relatively smooth, split log from near the stream and a large pile of leaves to serve as a bed, all slid under an overhang of stone. The next part of the camp Andrew wasn’t sure was as necessary. The forest that his friends had been hiking through had been known to be clear of carnivores but full of herbivores, and even a few omnivorous bears, but the encounter with a hydra earlier, which had claimed his hiking pack, had made Andrew think twice about not putting up a barricade against the unknown species around. The barricade itself was simple, consisting of a stack of short logs that Andrew assumed a beaver had chewed through, but complex in structure, built in alternating layers as if it was a brick wall. Only one side of the clearing was covered by the wall, but the rest could wait for later.

The campfire’s sudden burst into glory brought the attention of all the unicorns in the clearing. Many of them were startled, but a few simply stared, seemingly in awe. The azure unicorn seemed the most calm, even approaching the fire to poke a hoof at one of the outer stones.

A howl sounded through the night, and Andrew stopped watching the unicorns’ reactions to the fire to listen. It was gritty, an unwavering monotone that sounded into the night, quite unlike any wolf howl that Andrew had ever heard before. The unicorns all seemed to tense up to this, and he picked up on this quickly, standing up to comfort them all.

“It’s alright,” he said softly, making a motion with his hands. Andrew was pleasantly surprised as most of the unicorns seemed to calm down, though they remained a little antsy. Rubbing his eyes with a hand, Andrew paused to witness the white foal who had given him the first stick stretch out and yawn, before settling deep into his mother’s furry side.

Depositing the rest of the firewood into the pit, Andrew placed his hood beside his log bed and settled in for the night on his leaves, uncomfortable, but comforted by the presence of the ponies as they all settled down to sleep the dark night away.

And as strange as it seemed, Andrew felt as if he had joined the herd.

Author's Note

Just a cute little thing I wanted to do. Makes me feel all... fuzzy.

2 - Herds

Herds

As Andrew watched the ponies sleep the early morning away, the full reality of his entire situation came crashing down on him: he was far from home, without a single sign of civilization save for his clothes and his memories, and he had just slept with a herd of creatures he had previously believed to only exist in fiction and myth.

Needless to say, Andrew was just a little terrified.

If Andrew held a scale of how fearful he was of the situation, Andrew would put it at a six out of ten; terrified, but not mind-numbingly terrified. Before he could delve any deeper into understanding how he had reached this point in the teenage years of his lifetime, the azure mare awoke, blinking blearily.

“Early riser, huh?” Andrew asked quietly, as to not awaken the rest of nested pony herd. The azure unicorn did not even flinch as he approached with his hood full of berries. She greedily chowed down on the berries as soon as they were offered. Unlike the previous day, however, she instead ate for a few minutes, rather than her previous thirty. Andrew noticed that the unicorn did look a little thin, and after a brief look around, he found that the rest of the unicorns shared a similar state, save for the foals.

“Hm.” Andrew crouched back down to watch the unicorn eat. “You guys have been starving, haven’t you?” The azure mare looked up at him and licked the area around its messy mouth. Then, with surprising speed, she stretched her neck to allow her to tug gently on one of Andrew’s ears.

“Woah,” the teenager muttered, eyes widening. “That feels weird.” It didn’t hurt him, but the unicorn also seemed to show no signs of stopping any time soon. With a sigh, Andrew slowly brought a hand to the pony’s neck, dragging his hand through the light blue fur. The two stayed like that for a moment, sharing an intimate touch. Closing his eyes, Andrew took the time to re-evaluate the situation.

The ponies had been starving, but why? Searching his dim recollections of horse and pony anatomy, Andrew thought that there would be enough grass, herbs, and flowers in their plain to feed them. There certainly weren’t that many ponies in their herd, in his opinion, so there shouldn’t have been a lack of foodstuffs.

'Maybe they need more than just grass?' He opened his eyes again, watching the mare pick a bur out of her foreleg. 'They’re unicorns, after all.' Rubbing his forehead with a hand, Andrew groaned; he really had no clue about these creatures. The sound got the attention of the mare, who nickered softly and tugged on his sleeve, albeit less harshly this time. He waved a hand dismissively at the mare and stood, stretching.

“I’m good, you,” he chuckled. “Although—” he rubbed his chin in thought “—I should probably stop calling you by that, huh?” The mare snorted and stomped over to where a green stallion sat, kicking him with a hoof. He jolted awake with a snort, and was immediately chewed out by the mare for some inexplicable reason in a series of snorts and whinnys. Laughing, Andrew shook his head.

“How about Mint?” he smiled, watching the pair as those nearby awoke from the commotion. “'cause you’ve got some bite to you.”

After Mint had chewed out the stallion and finished with a nuzzle along his neck, the green stallion and most of the unicorns went about picking berries from the bushes. Much to the displeasure of Andrew, the white foal seemed to have great difficulty finding a berry to eat. Before Andrew could step in to help out, the white mare, who Andrew assumed was the foal’s mother, began to drop every berry she picked from the bush for her foal. The teenager only stepped in when the foal began to be buried in berries.

“That’s enough,” Andrew grinned, approaching the thicket. Immediately, all of the unicorns stopped eating, save for Mint, who had already finished her meal and instead sat quietly at the back, watching the group. Andrew was thoroughly confused at the reaction; were they afraid of him?

“Uh.” Pausing awkwardly, he shook his head and moved over to the foal, who continued to eat the berries with relish. Another foal had joined in feasting on the pile, but had stopped to watch Andrew with giant, curious eyes. Andrew hesitated, glancing back at the unicorns who all watched him, eerily quiet. He looked back at the pile of berries and snatched one up, and turned around to face the white mare. He held it out, bearing a toothless smile.

“Eat some, you know you need it.” The mare stared at his hand, then looked back up at the teenager’s face. “Come on now, I won’t bite.” The mother looked back at the group of unicorns, let loose a quiet nicker, and returned to Andrew. Slowly, she opened her mouth, teeth ready to grasp the blueberry carefully.

And in an eyeblink, the berry was gone, the mare greedily chewing. He watched the unicorn swallow, and he swore he saw her smile as she turned back to the thicket to eat more berries, some of the herd following. Andrew shook his head at the sudden event. He looked over at the rest of the herd, who still stood staring at both him and the feeding unicorns apprehensively.

“Come on guys!” He gestured wildly at the huge thicket surrounding them. “There’s more than enough for everyone!” When the ponies refused to move, Andrew reached for a berry from the bush and popped it into his mouth. “Oh, that’s good.” He swallowed. “See, wouldn’t you guys want to eat some?”

The four ponies shared looks with each other, and then carefully made their way over to the bushes. Sighing in relief, Andrew turned to his own part of the thicket and began refilling his hood with berries.

Just as he finished up, he felt a tug on the back of his black hoodie. He turned around to find Mint looking up at him from his waistline. Before he could do anything, the unicorn’s lips began twitching.

“Wuh.”

Andrew blinked. “What?”

“Wuuuh.” The mare snorted, stomping her hoof. Andrew chuckled at her expense.

"This is harder than you think!" the mare groaned.

Once more, Andrew was taken aback at his sudden understanding of animal speak; the mare flicked her cyan tail and let out a puff of air through her nostrils as he stared in contemplation. Without another sound, she walked to the edge of the clearing and disappeared into the brush. A whinny from behind Andrew brought him back to the herd. His eyes widened as he beheld the sight before him.

“Woah…” He took a step back from the unicorns, each holding a blueberry gently in their teeth. They began dropping them at his feet, one by one. With their modest pile of berries safely deposited at his feet, Andrew eyed the white mare who had started the pile.

And this time, Andrew knew he saw a smile.

Mint nudged Andrew as the herd moved through the pasture.

“Wo,” she growled.

“I’m just admiring the view, Mint.” He rolled his eyes as he caught himself from tripping over a stray branch. “Jeez.”

The herd had moved back out to the plains shortly after Mint had returned from doing her business. Andrew wasn’t sure what they were scared of, as he noticed the many paranoid snorts and nickers that came from the ponies while they glanced around the plains. Filing the thought away for later, Andrew decided to stray a little ways from the herd to inspect the grassland. Much to his dismay, they followed him quite closely. Mint attempted to drag him once more away, but this time he resisted.

“For the love of… would you please just hold still, Mint!”

“Wo!” the mare yipped, pushing against his legs with her muzzle. Growling, Andrew picked up the mare and tucked her under his arm.

“Wow!” he laughed, looking down at the mare under his arm as she squirmed. “You’re real light!” Shaking his head with a grin, he went back to inspecting the flowers and herbs in the area.

The grass was the greenest he had ever seen in the wilderness, the colors so bright that they seemed almost artificial. The flowers shared the same fare, even populated with a couple yellow honey bees. There seemed to be no lack of turnips in the area, their bulbs hidden beneath turnt sprouts. A few carrots also lay buried around. As Andrew reached down to inspect one of the carrots, the white foal from earlier ran in front of him and attempted to tug the vegetable from the earth to no avail.

“Here,” Andrew said, reaching down once more. Suddenly, the unicorn’s horn began to glow a soft yellow as a frustrated look overtook the foal’s features. With one last heave, the carrot popped out of the ground, earth still clinging to its roots, surrounded by the same hazy yellow.

“What…?” Andrew stared at the levitating carrot, the foal clapping his hooves gleefully. He swapped between the odd sight of the foal clapping and the odder sight of the levitating carrot with growing amazement.

Mint took his moment of awe to finally wiggle free of his grasp, snorting as she brought a hoof down on his hiking boot. Unfortunately for her, the steel toe made her pull back with a wince of pain. Her whimper brought the foal and the herd out of their reverie as they all crowded around her. She let loose a nicker, nuzzling the green stallion from earlier. Andrew shoved his hands into his pockets, looking apologetically at the mare as she turned to him.

“Sorry,” Andrew mumbled. The mare stood and came over, nuzzling the part of his hand sticking out of his pants pocket.

“Wu… oh,” the mare murmured, looking into the surprised human’s eyes. “Woah!” she shouted in a shaky tone.

“Did…” Andrew’s eyes went wide as he placed his hands on his knees and bent down to look the mare in the eye. “Did you just…?”

“Woah!” The mare smiled, prancing happily in place. “Woah, woah, woah!” It came out in a thick, throaty tone, but it was clear; she was speaking English.

“Of course you learn the first word I yelled when you rammed into me and stole my berries.” Andrew shook his head slowly, a grin growing. “I knew you guys were smart… but this?”

“Woah.”

Andrew laughed. “Woah, indeed.”

A loud whinny from nearby brought Andrew back to the herd. The foal and the white mare looked up from chewing the carrot and its roots to watch as a flock of figures descended down from the clouds above. Andrew stared slack jawed as a black figure landed; it was a pegasus. The other pegasi soon followed, and after a moment of recuperation, the figures began to approach Andrew’s herd. The unicorns’ anxious shivering seemed to increase tenfold as the same black figure tossed its silver mane to the side and let loose a loud whinny.

“Woah!” Mint shouted, stepping up to the front of the unicorns, all of which moved back for her. She let loose a series of snorts, nickers, and many whinnys. Most of the pegasi, of which there were ten, shrank back from the mare’s yelling, but the black pegasus took it in stride.

With an uncharacteristic growl for a pony, the pegasus took a threatening step forwards, emitting a single snort.

Before things could escalate further, Andrew stepped between the two herds, hands outstretched. “Hey! No fighting!” This time, all of the pegasi pulled away, no doubt in thanks to the sudden appearance of an unnaturally existent creature, but the black pegasus simply took a step back and shifted to growling at Andrew. Pawing at the ground eagerly, the pegasus began to flap his wings in preparation of flight. There was one last whinny from the pegasus as he took to the air; his proud cry of war.

"This is our land!"

“Then you’ll just have to learn how to share,” Andrew spat back as he raised his fists in reply.

3 - Families

Families

What the pegasus lacked for in height, he made up for in speed. Andrew was just barely able to sidestep the pegasus as it barreled past him.

“Woah!”

“Woah,” Mint agreed from the sidelines. The pegasus threw its wings outwards, halting its drifting form. Within seconds, the pegasus was hurtling back towards Andrew.

"I was expecting a good old fistfight, not a game of wipeout!” He dodged another kick aimed at him. The pegasus snorted, landing on the ground. The black creature pawed at the earth, crouching low in preparation for another boosted launch. Ready to make some sort of effort in the game, Andrew bent down, arms out by his sides. With a snarl, the pegasus took flight. Andrew’s eyes widened as the pegasus came straight towards his chest, its hooves held out forward.

“This is gonna—” Andrew felt all of the air in his lungs leave him as he and the pegasus, the attacker held firmly in his grip, went tumbling down into the green grass. “—hurt,” he wheezed out weakly as he lay on his back.

The pegasus squirmed in his grip, squawking indignantly. Andrew felt the pegasus’ hooves smacking against his chest in a futile attempt to get free. The black wings that had sent the pegasus flying around Andrew now lay trapped between Andrew’s elbow and chest, twitching slowly, unable to move in its constrained form.

"Gotcha.” Andrew chuckled, grunting as one of the hooves caught him hard in the stomach. He sat up, holding the pegasus close to his chest to prevent an escape. He looked down at the screeching creature, cringing at the high-pitched wail. “Cut it out, man. I caught you fair and square.” The pegasus stared up at him, silent for a moment. Andrew opened to his mouth to praise the feisty fighter for his compliance, only for the pegasus to begin whimpering, tucking his tail between his hind legs.

When a grey pegasus came flying over to Andrew, he realized that the black pegasus was much smaller than he seemed; it was three fourths the size of the mare. Andrew stood up, stumbling backwards as the mare stomped her hooves on the ground in front of him hard enough to send dirt flying.

“You’re just a kid,” Andrew sighed, looking down at the whimpering colt reaching for his mother. Gently, Andrew dropped the colt to the ground and took another cautious step back, watching the colt run to his mother. The mare huffed, swatting the teary-eyed colt on the nape of his neck with the tip of her wing. She sat down and pulled him into her lap with both wings, making comforting coos as he shivered.

Andrew took a look behind him, the unicorns’ attentions focused upon the colt and his mother. Mint looked a little saddened, lips curved downward in a frown as she held his hood of blueberries. Andrew got an idea from the sight.

“Mint.” All ears perked up in the herd, drawing their attention away from the colt. Andrew chuckled, snapping his fingers and pointing at Mint. “Mint.” He gestured for her to come forward with a finger. “Bring me my berries.” Mint’s eyes focused on his finger, mesmerized. Andrew slapped the hand against his forehead. “Right, I forgot.” Stepping over to the mare, he held his hand outward. Mint took notice of what he wanted and took a step forward, dropping the sack into his hand.

“Thanks.” After shooting a smile to the mare, Andrew walked back over to the colt. The mare holding the colt looked up at him, teeth bared for a moment, dropping the look once she saw the berry that Andrew held between two fingers. The pegasus herd behind her seemed to realize that Andrew had food, all eyes immediately drifting to his sack of berries. The mare whinnied, nudging her colt with her snout. The black colt turned, eyes widening as they landed on the berry. Andrew crouched down, not quite eye level with the colt, but close enough.

“Here.” He offered the berry to the colt, smiling. The colt looked up at him, then back to the berry. Andrew sighed, rolling his eyes. “Just like when Mint first ran into me,” he mused. He waved the berry in front of the colt. “Take the—”

Chomp!

Andrew pulled back, alarmed. “Woah?” Andrew chuckled, shooting a look back at Mint.

“No, It’s woah. It’s not a question, see?”

“Woah.”

Andrew snapped his fingers at Mint again. “You got it.” He returned to the colt, extending another berry. “Now let’s try that—” Andrew leaned backward as the colt lunged for the berry again. “Aha! You didn’t get—”

Chomp!

Andrew paused, bringing his saliva covered fingers in front of him. He turned around and frowned at the chewing Mint.

“Really?” The mare didn’t respond, content to sit there enjoying the berry. Andrew returned to the pegasus herd, all staring down his bag with a fierce hunger in their eyes. Sighing, he stood up, reaching a hand into the bag.

“Here we go again,” he grumbled, beginning a berry trail back to the thicket.

The black pegasus colt seemed to have forgotten that he had tried to kick Andrew, now content to lie at the human’s feet. The pegasus herd had followed Andrew back to the bushes, but not before Andrew had told off some of the unicorns that had come forth to nip at Andrew’s new followers. The campground held a tense atmosphere as both pegasus and unicorn alike watched each other, hoarding away berries for their own herds.

“Hey! Play nice you two!” Andrew walked over to the green unicorn and the grey pegasus that stood over a berry that had fallen to the ground. The grey pegasus’ ears flopped down to the side of her head, backing down. The green unicorn seemed to take it as a victory, whinnying as he bent down and gulped down the berry. Andrew rolled his eyes, pushing the stallion away.

“Get outta here, Greeny.” Greeny snorted, plucking another berry from the bush. He held it between his teeth, made one last glare at the pegasus mare, and went over to Mint, where he placed down his offering. Andrew shot an apologetic smile at the pegasus. “Sorry about that.”

He picked a berry from a higher part of the bush, brighter and just a little bit bigger than the rest, and held it in front of the mare. She hesitatingly swiped it from his fingers.

"You guys sure like biting my fingers.” Andrew watched with an eyebrow raised as the mare went to his side. “What are you doing?” He chuckled as her tail brushed against his chin, the mare doing a full circle around him. “Being cute I…” He paused, staring the mare down as she held his hood in her teeth. “... on second thought, you’re real sneaky.” Snorting, the mare dropped the bag to the ground and nosed out a few berries. Filling her pile up to some sort of personal limit, she then nosed the bag back towards him.

“Huh.” Andrew scratched his chin as he tucked the corner of the hood back into his pocket. “You guys really are smarter than you look.”

“Woah!”

"What is it— oof!” Andrew went tumbling down to the ground as a unicorn barreled past him. “Hey!” He stumbled back to his feet, staring at the disappearing forms of a green and azure unicorn. Before Andrew could do anything else, another tug on his jeans sent the hood of berries to the ground. He gave a disapproving look to the pegasus mare as she slowly ate.

“You know what? I like your style.” Andrew sat down, pressing the lower part of his back to the mare’s side. She did not move. Andrew reached over, grabbing a berry at random from the pile and tossing it into his mouth. “Yeah… that’s good,” he hummed. The mare agreed, her own reverberation of pleasure shaking through her throat.

“So…” The mare brought her head up from the ground and glanced at the resting human. “How ya doin?” She snorted, returning to the berries. Andrew laughed. “Yeah, I figured you weren’t much of a conversationalist.”

The two sat in silence for a while, eating their fill of Andrew’s berry pouch. Andrew felt the mare stop moving, the mare setting her head down with a sigh. He moved on to watching the unicorns and pegasi herds eat from their own stockpiles. Eventually, everyone had seemed to have eaten as much as they wanted, as many of the adults settled down to rest their weary hooves. The foals, despite their parents’ vocal displeasure, however, took the time to enjoy their much larger group of playmates.

“At least the little guys get along.” Andrew pressed closer to the warm mare’s side, smiling as he watched the foals play. He glanced over at the mare for just a moment. “Don’t you think that’s nice?” All he got from the pegasus was a snort. “Wait, are you actually sleeping?” Andrew slowly turned back to the rest of clearing when the mare did not reply. “Sleepy ponies…” he observed of the rest of the adults’ states. He brought his hands to the back of his head, leaning over the back of the mare. Andrew stared up at the bright green canopy above, smiling.

“Wish I could sleep just like that…” he muttered, closing his eyes. Just as he felt the blackness beginning to take him away, a hoof prodded him in the chest. He looked down, peeking out of one eye at the black pegasus staring at him.

“Come on,” Andrew groaned, standing up to stretch. The pegasus stared up at him, eyes and mouth wide with curiosity. He raised an eyebrow at the colt. “Whaddya need, squirt?” The colt did a full circle around Andrew, the teenager watching carefully as he himself spun. The pegasus gave a tentative sniff of one of Andrew’s boots, then, with one last look at Andrew’s face, settled down beside his mother, immediately swept under one of the great, grey wings.

“Right,” Andrew sighed wistfully, watching the colt smile as he took the place of Andrew. He gave a cheeky grin to the two before he walked away. “That’s your momma.”

The remaining foals were still available for interaction, but Andrew was far more interested in the other ponies. Specifically, Mint and Greeny. Carefully avoiding the many tails that lay about the clearing, and maneuvering around the frolicking foals, Andrew pushed his way out of the clearing in the direction that the two unicorns had disappeared. Looking around for a moment, Andrew found a trail of hoofprints and cautiously began to follow them.

Yet again, Andrew found himself attracted to the flora around him. It was the prettiest environment that he had the pleasure of walking in, and he had been to New Zealand’s luscious green hills. There was a lovely grove of birch trees just a little ways from the campground, littered with many flat stones and a small hole in the canopy, just big enough to allow a pleasant beam of sunlight into the area. Filing away the location for later, Andrew pushed through another bramble of bushes and into another clear area.

Andrew paused, breath held as he saw the two unicorns. He retreated a little ways back into the brush, watching the couple.

Mint sat by a clear blue lake, head leant down to watch a group of fish swimming by the shore. Greeny came up from behind, a bright red rose held between his teeth. Mint flicked an ear and turned to the stallion, whinnying at the sight of the flower. As Greeny sat down with the delicate flower, Andrew was expecting Mint to come forward and take the flower from him. Instead, the mare scooted closer, and even more gently than any of the unicorns plucking a berry from the thicket, Greeny slid the rose between Mint’s ear and her head. Andrew left as quietly as possible, careful not to ruin the intimate moment.

And in that moment, Andrew finally thought of home.

4 - Thoughts

Thoughts

Home.

Andrew stood in the center of the berry bush thicket. He watched the calmly sleeping forms around him. The sight reminded him of the time years ago, when he and his friends had started going on trips together. He missed that summer camp.

And his friends.

Andrew scratched at his stubbly chin. He had been looking forward to shaving off the hairs when he had gotten home from his latest hiking trip.

Home.

Dropping a few more berries into his pouch, Andrew left the clearing to silence.

Andrew dipped a hand into the stream, watching the water push past the wall of flesh. Seeing his hand in the water reminded him that he was not with his people, but instead with another kind of people. A kind of people he had never seen, heard of, or met until yesterday. Andrew brought his hand out of the water, just managing to catch a glimpse of the squirrel that had caught his thrown acorn a day prior. It waved at him, then disappeared back into its treehome. It reminded him that it wasn’t just one kind of sapient species in this world.

This world.

The strange phrasing in his mind made Andrew stand up suddenly. The squirrel poked its head out at the sudden start, eyeing Andrew questioningly.

“I’m fine. Thanks, squirrel.” With a nod, the squirrel disappeared again. It was strange, being able to communicate with animals, but Andrew found that he didn’t mind that.

In fact, he found that there was a sense of opportunity there.

Without noticing, Andrew began to pace back and forth, mumbling his thoughts to himself. One part of him demanded that he find a way back to his friends and his home. Another argued that he could wait and see where the ponies would take him. One last one cried at the other two thoughts, demanding time to speak. Andrew quieted the two bickering thoughts, motioning for the last one to speak.

“What if,” he began aloud in the living realm, “what if I treated this like a part of the hiking trip?”

“What?” Andrew A cried, shaking Andrew C maniacally. “I have to go home now!”

“I can wait!” yelled Andrew B, smacking A away. He gave a smile to C. “Continue.”

“Well, I originally came here to see the forest, right? So what if I just treated this like another exploration trip and just—” he waved his form around “—hiked?”

“But where would I go?” B asked. “I myself, find this place quite interesting, but I believe that the ponies are the way to go when it comes to learning.” He paused. “And staying safe.” All of the thoughts agreed on that; the eastern swamp was no joke.

“I think the ponies have something going for them,” C began again, watching as B clamped a ghostly hand over A’s mouth. “But I just get the feeling that if we ignore everything else about this place, we’ll be missing out on the rest of this once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“It’ll be the last lifetime I live!” A screamed, breaking through B’s form. “That hydra is enough evidence that this place is a hazard to my health!”

“It’s an adventure,” B and C stated in uniform monotone. “Of course there are going to be risks,” C finished.

“Risks? Is that all they are to me?”

“There are risks hiking,” B supported. “I knew that there were risks there, and I still took them. I might’ve stepped into a quicksand moat, or fallen victim to a nasty, unexpected cliff drop, but here I stand.”

C smiled at B, then turned to A. “I’ve been given an opportunity, and I know that all of I,” he gestured to the trio. “Want to be home more than ever, sitting on our computer and whittling away the time till senior year, but I want something interesting to happen this summer.” A now looked hesitant. “Haven’t I always wanted something like this to happen to me? We are getting the opportunity to live out our oldest dream!”

“Exploring a magical world of fantasy,” B hummed.

“I…” A looked up, grinning. “I can’t argue with that.” With a pop, the figure of Andrew disappeared into smoke.

“The ponies are interesting,” B reconciled. “But if I just stick to this pasture and the bushes, I’d be missing out on a whole lot more.” One last puff of dust signalled an end to Andrew’s contemplation as he was left standing there by the stream, chest puffed out forward and his arms just off his sides.

Popping a berry into his mouth, Andrew squeezed his eyes shut, enjoying the birdsong and sounds of the dribbling stream.

'Yes,' he thought. 'This can be an adventure.'

When Andrew returned to the clearing, he found all of the ponies patiently waiting by the bushes. They all stared at him as he approached. Halting, Andrew stared back.

“Uh… I’m back?” The white unicorn foal from earlier came bumbling up, then pointed from his open maw to the bushes. “Oh.” Andrew went to pluck a berry from his bag, but thought otherwise. He moved over to the thicket, the ponies’ eyes carefully following him. Plucking one of the smaller berries from the bottom, Andrew turned, held it up before the group, and then swallowed it whole. With a little bit of amusement, Andrew watched the herds rush to the bushes.

Except for Mint, who instead came to Andrew’s side.

"You’re absolutely adorable,” Andrew cooed, brushing a hand across the mare’s cheek. She leaned into his touch, letting out a very in-equine purr. “Who gave you that flower?”

“Woah,” Mint mumbled in the stead of an actual reply, too overtaken with the scritches as Andrew moved to her ear.

Andrew spied Greeny standing off by the bushes, chewing slowly on a berry with a glare. Sticking his tongue out at the stallion, Andrew pulled away from his pony.

“We need to teach you some more words.” Mint nosed his hand, then came under it, closing her eyes in anticipation. “I…” Andrew sighed, then smiled as he began scratching the mare behind the ear once again. “It can wait, I guess.” Eventually, Greeny came back over to put an end to the nonsense. Mint snorted and stomped away, Greeny following with a pout on his face.

“They’re really expressive creatures.” Andrew watched as the mare flicked her tail at Greeny, galloping away from him to the bushes. As the stallion drew close again, she galloped off to another part of the thicket. “Really expressive,” Andrew chuckled.

After a little while of sorting out the campfire’s rocks and his makeshift bed, Andrew was brought back to the ponies by the sound of a shrill whistle. He stared at the grey pegasus who had made the sound, and watched as most of the pegasi made their way over to her. Nickering softly, the group took the audio cue to begin gathering berries. One by one, they dropped their berries in a pile at Andrew’s feet.

“You guys too?” Andrew bent down, pushing the berries back towards the grey pegasus representative. “I’m fine guys, I could do with some meat but I’m fine.” Andrew waited for the group to grab their berries again.

But no single pony dared to move. Even the unicorns, who had been chewing up until that point, had stopped to watch Andrew’s reaction to the berries. Andrew threw his hands up in the air in defeat, making the herd take a few steps back.

“Screw it!” He scooped up the berries in handfuls, tossing them into his bag. He crossed his arms once he was finished, frowning at the ponies. “Are you pleased?” Whinnying, the pegasus bowed her head, and the others soon followed, even the foals. Mint came up beside the gawking Andrew, and nickered softly. Andrew looked down at the smug unicorn staring at the pegasi.

“Oh no, you get down too!” Chuckling, Andrew pushed the mare’s head downwards, much to her surprise. She reeled back, narrowing her eyes at Andrew. He returned the look with just as much animosity. Mint’s ears folded up against her head, moving the rose a little bit out of place. Sighing again, Andrew kneeled down to fix the rose. He stood suddenly as the thundering sound of flapping wings erupted across the clearing. Andrew stared in awe as the creatures took off, disappearing through the small hole in the canopy, just above the campfire.

“And just like that, they were gone,” Andrew said, shaking his head at the strange occurrence. He looked down at the mare, raising an eyebrow questioningly. “You gonna disappear on me, Mint?”

“Mint?”

Andrew gasped and clapped his hands together. “Oh that’s awesome! Say it again!”

“Mint!”

Pumping his fist in the air, Andrew laughed maniacally.

“Yes!” He grinned, settling down. “If Jared was here, he would be so mad that I got a unicorn to say their name.” Andrew recalled his friend’s cockatoo saying its own name. “That’s two-nil!” Unfortunately, the rest of the herd had decided that it was time for their own display of faith. Mint, just as she had earlier, plonked down by Andrew, right on his foot. Andrew, who had been just about to move, sighed as he was forced to watch the unicorns place their offerings at his feet.

“You guys know I don’t have much room in my hood anymore, right?” Snorting, Mint pulled a berry from the pile. One of the unicorns stepped forward, snorting loudly at the mare, only to be intercepted by Greeny. The two stepped forward, pawing at the ground, all the while creating fierce expulsions of hot air from their nostrils. Andrew slid his foot out from underneath Mint and pulled the two unicorns apart by their withers.

“One thing I have to make clear is that I don’t like bickering.” He pat Greeny on the back, then held his hand there to push him away. He turned to the new unicorn, a yellow stallion. “And I don’t appreciate you trying to start fights.” The stallion glared up at Andrew, making the teenager pull back for a second. Then, with surprising speed, the pony spat at the ground at Andrew’s feet and stomped away to the thicket. Andrew recovered quickly, feeling anger well up inside of him.

“Hey!” The stallion winced at the loud voice of Andrew. “Turn around!” The stallion did not move. Andrew swept a hand through his hair with a growl and came up to the stallion. He grabbed the stallion by the withers and spun him around quickly. Fear dominated the eyes of the creature as Andrew went down on him.

“I,” he jabbed a thumb at himself. “Do not appreciate you,” he poked a finger hard into the bottom of the stallion’s neck. “Spitting at me, or ignoring me.” He pat the stallion on the side of the neck and stepped back. “You got that? I do not like being ignored.” Whimpering, the stallion bowed his head, even going as far to sink to the ground with legs. “Good.”

“Now,” Andrew spun on his heel, facing the crowd. He folded his hands behind his back and looked over them. “Does anypo—” Andrew coughed into his hand, shaking his head at the mistake. “Anybody else want to start a fight?” The herd, without understanding what the human was saying, simply stared. Andrew sighed, rubbing a hand against his temple. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Good,” he muttered.

Andrew heard hooves moving, and opened his eyes. A couple of unicorns passed him, going around to comfort the still kneeling stallion. Mint pulled up in front of him and sat down, staring up with watery eyes.

“Woah…” she whimpered.

“Mint... Oh come on…” Andrew hefted the teary-eyed pony up into his arms, rocking her slowly. “Don’t cry…” Andrew stepped away from the scene and sat down on his log. He watched as the rest of the herd that wasn’t with the stallion came up to him, a forlorn look in each of their orbs.

“I won’t yell at any of you again, I swear.” Andrew took a shaky breath, feeling tears of his own rising. He wiped away the distractors with the back of his sleeve. He looked down at Mint, tears leaking down the fuzzy little creature’s face. It felt so wrong to see a pony cry, and Andrew couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that he had done this.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Pressing his eyes to the soft pony’s furry back. He felt the herd pressing up against him, some of them even crawling into his log bed. Before Andrew knew what was happening, he felt himself drifting away, a pony in his arms, and a herd supporting him.

5 - Grasslands

Grasslands

Andrew awoke in darkness. His eyes were open, and as his eyes adjusted to the light, he found himself still in the berry thicket. The canopy above swayed slowly in the cool night air. As Andrew blinked the blurriness of sleep away, he found that he was still holding Mint and sitting amongst the sleeping herd. His eyes flashed open in realization; he had slept through the afternoon.

“I wish I had my flip phone,” the human muttered, carefully setting Mint down amongst the ponies on his bed. Andrew stood, stretching his legs.

He went to start the campfire, but realized that there were two problems with that: one, the unicorns were sleeping and he did not wish to wake them, and two, he had no firewood. Sighing, Andrew went back over to his bed and pulled the now berryless hood from underneath the yellow unicorn’s rump. Before he could get away, the unicorns leg shot out and kicked him right in the shin. Suppressing the grunt of pain that threatened to slip out, Andrew instead opted to glare at the quietly snoring unicorn.

“Should call you Lemon just for the attitude,” he grumbled. Andrew filled up his hood with berries again and surveyed the darkness.

Small groups of fireflies had sprouted forth from the blackness while he had been storing food, and it reminded him that he still had yet to build another wall of logs on the southern side of the clearing. Another glance to the north told him that he probably wanted to put something up above the rocky outcrop covering his sleeping spot from the elements. Eventually, Andrew ran out of things to squint at in the darkness. The human stared up through the moonlit hole in the center of the clearing canopy, the white orb in the sky shining down on Andrew and the night’s denizens.

“That’s a big moon.” Andrew searched his mind for something to do besides sleep the rest of the night away. He almost slapped himself for forgetting one of the things that had held him together throughout the years; jogging. It was strange not staying close to the schedule for over a day, as even on trips out of town he would still go out jogging. After performing warm up stretches for a couple of minutes, Andrew slipped the hood into his hoodie pouch, turned west, and took off at a brisk pace.

There wasn’t much to think about, Andrew had to admit. He could think of home, but what was the point in that? Much of his business had been filled out before his hiking trip, and he was quite sure his weekly lawn mower visits would not affect the lives of his neighbors. Like they had to do, he would find a way. Quite unlike his neighbors, however, Andrew had to find a way safely past a potentially dangerous forest and a hazardous hydra.

'Or I could go east,' he mused, hopping over a fallen log. Brushing past a branch found Andrew back on the edge of the plains. He slowed to a walk as he entered the plains.

“Man, this place is even more pretty at night.” The flowing stream nearby reminded Andrew that he hadn’t had a drink for the last few hours. He knelt down near the water, inspecting it carefully. It was hard to tell, but Andrew was pretty sure it was just water. Cupping his hands in the liquid, Andrew brought a pool to his lips. It was cool and refreshing, nothing special. Drinking also reminded him that he had not eaten food recently, or more specifically, meat.

Spying a carrot’s top nearby, Andrew chose to figure out how to get meat later. Most likely fish. Filing away the thoughts of how to gut and fish without tools for later, Andrew focused on pulling the carrot out from ground. The foal had made it look easy, but the levitation trick that he had pulled must have helped him in that aspect. With a hard tug, the carrot popped out of the ground, earth flying everywhere.

As Andrew finished pulling away the roots of the carrots, there was thud from behind him. Standing quickly, Andrew turned on a whim. Amber eyes peered at him from the figure. As the wings of the creature spread forth, Andrew realized that it was the black pegasus colt from earlier. He pulled back, settling his shoulders.

“Don’t spook me like that.” The colt took a step forward, his eyes locked on Andrew’s carrot. Andrew looked between the carrot and the colt. He pulled it away, grinning. “This is my carrot.” He kicked at another spot nearby where another carrot sat rooted in the dirt. “But you can have the rest that you see.” Seeing that there was food by Andrew’s foot, the colt came over and began to tug at the stem.

With his visitor distracted, Andrew sat down by the stream again and gently began to wash his carrot. He was about halfway done clearing the vegetable of debris and roots when the pegasus plonked down next to him, holding a carrot in it’s mouth. Andrew looked up from his work for a moment, grinning at the pony as it watched him work. Refocusing, Andrew decided to spark a bit of conversation with the equine.

“Whatcha doing out so late, buddy?” The pegasus leant forward, watching Andrew’s carrot intently. The teenager gave a questioning glance as he pulled his carrot from the water. “You come to steal my food or what?” Nibbling a bit on the sweet carrot, Andrew watched as the pegasus pulled the carrot out of his mouth with his hoof and held it in the water. Curious, Andrew watched as the pegasus began to scrub away the remaining roots and flecks of dirt with his other hoof.

“I don’t even know,” Andrew muttered, staring at the hooves somehow capable of grasping the carrot. He pointed at the colt’s hooves. “How are you doing that?” In a much shorter period than Andrew, the carrot had been rubbed raw, and the colt raised it to his mouth, crunching on it loudly. It stared at him, simply flicking an ear in his direction as it lowered its hoof away.

“You guys really are fast learners.” Wishing to see if the pegasus would show off his ability again, Andrew held out his carrot whilst the pegasus was still chewing. Its eyes stared at the carrot, momentarily halted in its feeding. Much to Andrew’s amazement, the pegasus grabbed the carrot with one of his hooves and held it up as he finished eating his first carrot.

“Dude, that is weird!” Andrew stood, looking around for another item for the pegasus to grab. He returned after a moment with a large turnip. After dusting it off, Andrew extended it to the pegasus. Immediately, the pegasus had grabbed it with a hoof. “Wow!” Chuckling, Andrew tousled the pegasus’ silver mane.

The pegasus snorted pulling him away. "Don’t touch me."

“Yeah yeah, I got you.” Still grinning, Andrew laid back in the cool grass, staring up at the clear night sky. His eyes went wide.

“This place just never ceases to show how beautiful it is…” Andrew stared up into the sky, the blue, red, yellow, and white orbs littering the purple sky, emphasized by the glow of the moon. “There has to be no light pollution here at all.” He spun, taking in the breathtaking view of the night above him. He laughed, pointing at one group of stars. “That looks like a stick figure!” He crouched down to reach the colt’s shoulder, clasping it loudly. “And that one’s a flower!”

Huffing loudly, the colt leaned away, but Andrew pulled him right back. Andrew smiled down at the colt. “You guys are lucky to be able to fly in that sky.” The pegasus swatted him in the face with a wing, and as if given a silent cue, took off into the night sky. Chuckling, Andrew went to stand, only to be clocked in the head by a large object. Suppressing a swear, he picked up the turnip that the pegasus had bombarded him with. Staring wistfully at the pegasus, its form disappearing behind a cloud, Andrew stared down at the turnip in his hand.

“Never had turnip before.” He shrugged his shoulders and bent down near the stream to wash the vegetable. After consuming the leafy greens and the bulb, Andrew looked around.

“Now where to next…” His eyes landed on the close mountain. A glance at the moon told him that time had barely passed since he had last checked in the clearing, so he decided to take off jogging towards the chain.

Just as Andrew was about to stop at the foot of the mountain, the sound of galloping behind him interrupted the choir of crickets. He turned, squinting into the dark to spot the creature. As the pony pulled up to him, Andrew took notice of who it was.

“Mint?”

“Woah?” The pony trotted up to him, a look of concern on her face. Andrew knelt down, running a hand through her mane.

"Are you alright?"

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He stood back up. “Did you follow me out here?” The pony stared at him blankly. “Right, right, I keep forgetting.” He scratched his head, looking around worriedly. “You should be back with the herd, though. I don’t know what’s out here, but there could be danger.”

The mare took notice of his expression and nuzzled his hand. She let out a comforting nicker. "I’m here for you."

Andrew sighed, smiling softly.

“I know.” He turned back to the short mountain chain, taking notice of a large waterfall nearby. Shrugging, he figured that it would be as good a place as any to find any new creatures.

“And a nice view,” he muttered, eyes landing on a plateau surrounding the waterfall’s top. Andrew stepped forward a couple of steps, before turning back to regard the mare. “You coming?” The mare looked back at the forest behind them, but gave a whinny in reply, following after him.

The sounds of the waterfall soon approached their ears. It was not of crashing volume, which surprised Andrew greatly. The falling water formed a smooth surface, and Andrew felt that if he touched it, there would not even be much spray. Near the lake that had formed from the waterfall, a large group of ducks lay asleep in the grass. A bright red creature flew overhead, and as Andrew squinted to see what it was, he realized that it was some sort of flying strawberry.

He stared slack jawed as the creature alighted along the banks of the lake. “Is that a literal fruitbat?” Sure enough, the creature sported a pair of bright red batwings. Before he could do so much as shake his head at the sight, Andrew spotted a flash of movement amongst a nearby grove of apple trees. As he approached the grove, he felt a tug on the leg of his jeans.

“You alright?” He looked back at the frightened Mint. His eyes widened. “What’s wrong?” Whimpering, the mare, took a step backwards.

'Something here is spooking her,' Andrew thought, aggressively scanning the area. There was the small forest nearby, the bright blue lake, and the quietly churning end of the waterfall, but there seemed to be nothing else in sight. Thinking back to the movement, Andrew brought a hand protectively over Mint and backed up.

There was a whinny from the woods, and out erupted a pony, a pony without wings or a horn. It was brown-coated creature, with a jet black mane.

And it was coming right for them.

But that wasn’t what scared him, no, because the creature itself showed the true definition of fear. It was what the pony was running from; a giant, black figure that Andrew had seen just moments before.

A spider sporting massive white fangs.

6 - Species

Species

Andrew’s first reaction to the massive titan of a spider was not one of fear, but one of sheer disbelief.

“That thing is huge!” The black spider let out a hiss, silencing the sounds of the night creatures all around the area. The ducks nearby awoke, quacking and flapping in retreat from the suddenly hostile glade. Locking eyes with Andrew, the earth pony slid to a stop in the earth, eyes flicking between the teenager and the creature that held it trapped in place.

Mint whinnied from behind him, slipping out from underneath his arm to run to the pony. The featureless equine turned, eyes wide with fear as Mint grabbed its tail. As Mint struggled to pull the pony back towards Andrew, the spider came closer and closer, it's eight, hairy legs, barely visible in the night’s shadow. Seeing the plan that Mint had enacted without recourse, Andrew shot forward.

“Hold on!” He scooped the two ponies up under separate arms, ignoring the wiggling of the two as they attempted to immediately slip free. The skitter of legs right before him sent him reeling back as the spider hurled itself toward him, fangs bared.

Naturally, Andrew threw his leg at the spider in a feeble attempt at a kick.

With a resounding crack, the night flared up into a cacophony of screams and spraying neurotoxins. Andrew backed away, staring with horror at the writhing creature, screeching its heart out. The deadly monster’s tooth lay discarded on the ground nearby, cracks apparent at the point where it had broken. Before Andrew could take in the scene further, the sound of thundering movements from the grove drew his attention. From the trees came a sea of massive spiders, all detailed in the exact proportions and colors as the spider crying before him.

Without any further hesitation, Andrew took off running.

The spiders were fast no doubt, as the ponies’ desperate squeals told Andrew. From the little time that he had spent alongside Mint, he knew that she was jittery, but she was a fighter; he could tell. Picking up the pace a little bit, Andrew stole a glance back. Instant regret flooded him as he felt himself tripping over a rock.

“Oh—brace!” He brought the two ponies in towards his chest, feeling himself go tumbling. A rock hit the top of his spine as he made a full revolution on the way down the sudden cliff, freezing his body stiff. Despite the multiple rocks he felt grazing him, Andrew remained stalwart in his pose, letting the natural world around him do its worst. By the end of it, Andrew nearly splattered against the dirt of the earth. Landing on his back had knocked the wind out of him, forcing him to drop the ponies. Huffing and puffing, Andrew squeezed an eye open, watching the two ponies situate themselves, their eyes spinning in a clear sign of dizziness. Groaning, he forced open the other eye, staring up the huge drop that had come at the end of the steep hill.

“I—” he coughed hard “—I should be dead.” Sent into a sudden coughing fit, Mint came to his side, pressing a hoof gently to the side of his head. Andrew stared up at the unicorn, whose ears came splayed back. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw the red glow of the spiders’ eyes up on the cliff above. They retreated after a moment, and Andrew grunted, dropping his head back down to the ground.

That’s when the adrenaline wore off.

Andrew bit his lip hard, feeling the shock course through his muscles. He felt something wrong with his shoulder, and in the tears that had taken up his view, he saw Mint’s lips move. He couldn’t hear what she had said over the pounding in his ears, but he knew that they were of comfort. Smiling as best he could through the pain, Andrew shut his eyes.

The pain did not stop for the next agonizing minutes, but when it was all said and done, Andrew had fallen into another dreamless sleep.

Andrew’s next few memories were hazy. He awoke several times in the period after passing out, remembering glimpses of Mint walking beside him, eyeing him with tears. There was a touch beneath him as he lay on his stomach, carried by something. It was not one of the ponies that Andrew had been accompanied by, he knew from the fact that the strange earth pony was ahead of him, watching with a frown.

His memories continued like that for a while, until he recalled seeing a pool of crystal blue water. It was a very dark room, lit by nothing but small, green and blue orbs. He remembered a hoof dipping his hand into the water, soothing the pain of the cuts and bruises all around over his arm as it sank deep into the water. There was no fear in Andrew as something pushed him slowly in the water, presumably watching as he sank into the crimson stained depths.

It was strange; he felt as if there was no ground beneath him, a somehow calming factor in the world of stars that he wandered. There was nothing for miles save for the blue of the sky and the white stars that littered the area. It felt like a dream, but Andrew felt that it had been real. He knew that it had been real. The crimson that had stained the water pooled around him, a wave of color in the now disturbed landscape. Perturbed by this, Andrew reached out to stop it, surprised to see the crimson soar straight into his hand. Andrew watched as his pale skin grew brighter. From the corner of his vision, Andrew saw it. Smiling as it sat beside him, a large, blurry, white form brushed an appendage over his back, creating gentle, circular motions.

And then Andrew awoke.

Gasping for air, Andrew struggled to his feet. Ache filled his limbs, but he could feel no remnants of the bruises or cuts besides that. After patting himself down to confirm this, he spun around, observing the surroundings.

The pool from his second most recent awakening sat nearby, noticeably brighter than before. It appeared that he was in a cavern, slate stalactites dripping down from the ceiling above him, dripping water down in miniscule amounts. There was a hole to one side, small enough to crawl through, but there was also a large opening in the side of the cave. The orbs of light from before turned out to be mushrooms, but Andrew spotted a much bigger sea of light, emitted from the cave’s large opening, Andrew limped over, arm held over his sore stomach.

As Andrew slipped down the halls, somehow dry boots dragging across the floor, he found his attention drifting to the strange walls of the slate hallway. Markings of colors dotted the walls, appearing to him as murals. They were of no particular arrangement, but as he drew closer and closer to the light at the end of the tunnel, he found the colors swirling around each other in ribbons. Lifting a hand to shield his eyes, Andrew pushed out back into the light of day.

'This is not the forest,' was the most prevalent thought amongst Andrew’s suddenly active mind.

Around him was a beautiful green pasture, populated by multiple groups of animals. To his sides were towering mountains, reaching high up into the sky, their snowy peaks visible below the clouds they barely grazed. With a start, Andrew realized that this must have been the mountain valley he had seen earlier. A couple of canaries, robins, and sparrows flapped cheerfully above him, their birdsong mixing with the sounds of the other wildlife on the earth. Turning to the animals, Andrew stepped forward, mouth open in awe.

Bison, chickens, cows, pigs, sheep, ponies, and even what appeared to be African buffalo grazed. Andrew rubbed his eyes with a hand, disbelieving of the peace that each species held with each other. Andrew noticed a unicorn approach him from the unicorn portion of the herd of pegasus and earth pony, and realized it was Mint.

“Mint?” he croaked, voice hoarse.

“Mint!” The mare leaped forward, hooves wrapping around his midsection. She plunged her face into the soft cloth of his hoodie, tail swaying happily from side to side. Grunting, Andrew ignored the twinge of pain and smiled down at the pony.

“Glad to see you, too.” As he ran a hand through her mane, he returned to staring at unbelievable sight. “Where the heck have you brought me?” Much to his disappointment, Mint pulled away and nickered.

"Come on!" She turned before he could get another word in, beginning to trot back over to her herd.

As Andrew approached the groups of animals, he saw them all freeze in their activity, staring him down. Suddenly uncomfortable, Andrew made a little wave and kept his head down. He paused beside Mint, who looked to the earth pony herd and whinnied. Andrew kept quiet as a large, orange stallion, came forward, his short red mane bouncing with each crashing step. As he stopped before Andrew, the teenager couldn’t help but smile at the pony that reached up to the top of his stomach.

The stallion nickered.

“Hello,” Andrew greeted, understanding the gesture. The stallion did not move, forcing Andrew to look at Mint in confusion. She snorted, nudging the stallion with a hoof.

Growling at her for a moment, the stallion turned back to Andrew and let out a neigh. "You are heavy."

Andrew took a step back. “Wow…” Laughing, he began to clap, slowly shaking his head. “Unbelievable… a pony just called me fat.”

“Woah!” Mint raised a hoof menacingly to Andrew. He pulled back, arms raised in surrender.

“Alright! Just playin!” After letting his chuckles die off, Andrew turned back to the stallion and grinned. “Thanks for carrying me.” Understanding, the stallion nodded and returned to his herd. The rest of the critters in the area seemed a little hesitant, but gradually returned to their meals. Andrew raised an eyebrow in Mint’s direction.

“So what happened Mint? Why am I suddenly alright?”

“Mint.” The mare cocked her head to the side. Inspecting him momentarily, Mint straightened her posture and let out a nicker. "Are you ready, Bushkeeper?"

Andrew did a double take. “Bushkeeper?” Mint cocked her head.

“Bushkeeper?” she hummed thoughtfully to herself, thinking over the word. “Bushkeeper,” she nodded. Seeing Andrew’s confusion, she snorted. "Home?"

“Oh, yeah!” he nodded vigorously. In a flash of brilliance, Andrew decided to attempt a snort like Mint. Yes! Every creature in the area seemed baffled at the sound. Andrew watched as an earth pony brought a foal towards itself, covering its ears with hooves. He got the idea. “Woah, I did not mean to say—” Mint kicked him hard in the knee before he could finish. Gritting his teeth, Andrew stopped himself from buckling.

“Ow?” He rubbed his knee as Mint turned to whinny. The three herds were on him in a second, their numbers a little over three dozen. Blinking, Andrew surveyed the crowd. “Wait, are you all coming?”

Multiple sounds answered that, and with a sigh, Andrew finally realized what he was getting into. Patting Mint on the back, he motioned for the crowd to follow, and slowly began to walk back to the plains. One of the earth ponies seemed to notice his limp as it ran up to him, a tall, smooth branch in its mouth. Laughing at the comically large branch for the pony, Andrew took it and smiled gratefully.

As the bushkeeper led the three herds back to the plains, he found himself filled with questions about the whole situation. He looked to Mint, watching her unnaturally humanlike smile pass over him and the ponies.

It was time for answers, and Andrew felt that teaching Mint to speak was a step towards understanding what was happening.

Author's Note

A lot of stuff happened this chapter, and a lot of it is unexplained, but I'm hoping to use this to set up a line for the rest of the story. Got a couple of neato ideas in the works for the overarching storyline, and every detail you've seen so far will be important, all of them incorporated in some way.

But for now, get ready for some talkin' ~~horsies~~ ponies.

7 - Questions

Questions

Andrew juggled the multiple questions bubbling around in his mind as the three herds walked and flew around him. That was one of the most curious questions, just behind knowing why that fall hadn’t left remnants of damage on him; what were these ponies? Frowning, he looked around at the herds. Spotting the earth pony mare that had been running from the spiders the night prior, he realized that the earth ponies were a new variable to the situation.

'The unicorns and pegasi aren’t really on good terms.' Andrew tightened his grip on his stick, head angled towards the earth ponies. 'But those ponies…' Rushing forward, Mint managed to catch Andrew as his feet lost purchase among a sea of stones. He sighed, smiling as he ran a hand across Mint’s back.

“Thanks.”

The mare looked up at him and snorted. "Be careful. "

Waving her off, much to her chagrin, Andrew looked around the new terrain. Stone outcrops formed natural walls around the area, and the dirt beneath him more akin to a quarry’s floor than the grasslands. Then, as the group was passing around a large pillar of stone, Andrew stepped out ahead of the herd to spot a giant, glinting rock.

“Is that…?” Stepping forward, Andrew stared at the shining stone. Spotting a moderate amount of circular stones littering the area, he realized that they were geodes. Andrew walked over to the stones and found a geode that was nearly the size of his head. He took his stick in two hands, reaffirmed his grip, and brought the end down hard on the stone. The thick tree branch, with surprising ease, broke the geode open. Andrew dropped the stick and carefully lowered himself to his knees, ignoring the approaching ponies.

Instead of finding a white quartz deposit of minerals within, he found a mass of amethyst, and a large one at that. Each crystal jutted outwards, small sparkles displaying the luster of the gems.

“Weird...”

“Woah,” Mint said, stealing away one of the halves with a hoof.

Shrugging, Andrew stood and turned to inspect the larger stone. Various sounds of the strange pony language behind him tore Andrew from his inspection. The pegasi and earth ponies were staring quietly at the unicorns, who had all circled around the amethyst geode. Before Andrew could ask a single question, the horns of the unicorns lit up, all surrounded by bright colors. Then, with multiple flashes of varying intensities, the amethyst halve began to shatter.

Whinnying, Mint powered down her horn, and the other unicorns soon followed. The glowing horns reminded Andrew of the small unicorn foal’s levitation trick, and as Mint raised a shining piece of amethyst with her hoof, he realized that there were no tricks.

Mouth open, Andrew limped over, kneeling down to pick up one of the light-emitting amethyst shards. “How?” he breathed, turning the crystal over.

Mint nickered, nudging another one of the strange amethysts near him. "Touch."

“Touch?” Cautiously, Andrew picked up the amethyst in his other hand.

Mint nodded approvingly, giving another nicker. "Touch them."

Trusting that nothing would happen to him, Andrew brought the two amethysts together, their tips touching. The light immediately brightened, and when Andrew pulled them away, they softened again. He suddenly picked up on just why the unicorns had done this.

“A light source?” He dropped the purple-emitting crystals. Mint’s ear pitched forward suddenly.

She let out a neigh, staring down at the gems. "Light?"

Curious at the statement made in her language, Andrew nodded. “Yeah, it emits light.” She paused again.

“Light.” She sounded the word out carefully. Mint pointed a hoof at the crystals. “Light?”

“Yeah, that’s light.”

She blinked slowly at that. “Woah.”

Snickering, Andrew pat her on the head.

“I’ll figure out how you’re learning all of this so quickly, and then I’ll teach you how to speak properly.”

“Woah?” she asked, pointing a hoof at Andrew. He held a finger against his chest, surprised.

“Me? I’m Andrew.”

She shook her head, pointing again. “Woah?”

He quickly picked up on what she wanted; one word.

“Andrew.”

“Andrew,” she sounded out. Seeing that he was on a roll, Andrew waved a hand.

“Hello.” She watched his hand moving in front of her, and after a moment of hesitation, she lifted her own hoof and repeated the movements, staring at Andrew.

“Hello… bushkeeper.” He shook his head in disbelief and stood.

“If you want to look like a pony, you need to work on your acting skills.” He couldn’t believe that a pony was able to quickly learn how to pronounce words not meant for its mouth. Eyeing the unicorns placing shards of amethyst in ponies’ manes, he thought that maybe the words were meant for them. They were just too intelligent. The ingenuity of it all was quite apparent as Andrew watched the ground around the ponies lit up in the purple glow; they were using the crystals as lights.

“Where did you guys learn this?” Andrew knew the answer, ignoring the fact that none of them had responded to him; they had learned how to do it themselves.

Andrew didn’t feel like the being with the most advanced intelligence anymore. In fact, he felt like the one behind. Just because the ponies lacked the technology, they certainly did not lack the technique. Watching an earth pony holding a shaking colt that was staring at Andrew, Andrew realized that he hadn’t been brought to the forest without reason.

He’d been brought here to help them progress.

He turned back to the pillaring rock, the last remnants of the hiking trip slipping from his mind. This was much more than a chance of fate. These ponies lacked the ability to protect themselves, the ability to utilize the simplest technologies, and a safe place to lay their heads down at night. This world was a dangerous place, full of hydras, wolves, giant spiders, and who knew what else. Searching his hoodie pocket, he found the hood of berries and tossed a handful into his mouth, savoring the taste. Andrew turned around and found his stick again; It was time to take charge. Stamping the ground loudly with the stick, he found the attentions of the beings around him refocus.

“We’ve got a long way to walk, still,” he began. “I know there’s a lot of you, but I’m going to help you all feed and grow for as long as I’m here.” He spied the earth ponies, their stomachs showing bone beneath. It was a nasty sight to see through the fur. Suddenly, the brown mare’s foray into the spider-infested apple grove the night before made a lot more sense. “Nothing will hurt you all for as long as I’m here.” He emphasized his point by bringing his stick down once more into the earth. Smiling at the tool for a moment, Andrew finished his short speech. “I’ll show you just what humans are capable of… and I’ll find the limits of your own potential.”

The distance between the valley and the berry thicket was further than it seemed. By the time the herd was just passing the lake and waterfall, which Andrew was careful to steer the herd away from, the sun was just beginning to dip down below the horizon. The amethyst lights showed their true colors as the herd was plunged in a purple hue. Andrew had attempted to teach Mint a few more words along the way, with little success in that department; walking and charades was harder to pull off than he thought. When they reached the plains outside the unicorn’s forest, the three herds split off, scavenging the plains for turnips and carrots.

Andrew settled down beside Mint, the mare in the process of uprooting a large turnip.

“I need your help, Mint.” The mare hummed, chewing on her successfully harvested vegetable. “I have no idea about what this place is, but you seem to be my best bet.”

Mint looked up at him, nickering softly. "You want some?"

“I’m a little thirsty, but I have my berries. Thanks for offering.” The mare returned to her meal. “How old are you, anyway?” The mare snorted, pulling back to allow Andrew’s hand to rest on her neck. Grinning, Andrew began to scratch the mare. “Right, suppose that’s a bit forward of me.” Greeny came trotting over, a carrot in his mouth. He settled down in front of Andrew, pushing aside the teenager’s arm to scoot up right beside Mint. Andrew raised an eyebrow and leant back.

“And that’s a little forward of you.” Mint finished her turnip and rested her head on Greeny’s back, allowing Andrew to continue his scratching from where he had left off. “But I really do need your help, Mint. So that’s why I’m asking you…” He popped another berry in his mouth, looking down at the sleepy mare. “Are you hiding anything from me, Mint?” Her ears flicked up at her name, but she didn’t move. Sighing, Andrew stood, surveying the plains.

Most of the herds appeared to have settled, just as he and the two ponies by his feet had. The moon had finally made its appearance, but the sun was still shooting beams over the horizon in the dusk. The pegasi were leaving in pairs, disappearing into the clouds. Andrew watched as a pegasus pushed a cloud to the side a bit, then landed on it. His disbelief was quickly extended, for when he looked to the earth ponies, he found them digging out a hole in the side of a hill. They had already dug quite deep, and soon stopped to fill the den with their fourteen bodies, all pressed tightly together for warmth. The unicorns stayed close together, the other seven adults and three foals content to lie in the middle of the field.

Andrew looked down at the pair of unicorns near him, feeling a shiver run up his spine. The night was colder than before, the wind enough to push the air straight through his hoodie. He had planned on sleeping on his makeshift bed that night, but he could settle down with the herds in the plains.

Swiftly, the night was broken by an inescapable flash of white from the forest.

Andrew squinted hard, watching the white figure passing between the trees. It appeared the day had not yet finished giving Andrew new sights. Grabbing his newly dubbed walking stick, Andrew stalked over to the forest.

The figure had disappeared from the treeline, moving further into the forest. Suspecting a trap, Andrew slowed his movements. The sun had descended quickly, and the moon now shone its brilliance independently through the treetops. He followed the light for a long time, passing through the thicket, by the stream, where he did not stop to drink despite his needs, and even past a cave entrance. Andrew felt his limbs tiring, a sign that he had been walking for longer than he remembered. Andrew squinted up through the canopy, spying the moon.

It was midnight.

Eyes widening, Andrew looked around him. The white figure still bounced along a hidden path ahead, waiting for him to follow. Andrew felt that something was off about the woods, but still, he followed the figure. The curious teenager did not know what was possessing him to continue, even after knowing that his perception of time was being disturbed, but he knew that there was something about the figure… something familiar.

Andrew emerged out of the forest, stepping backwards in surprise as the edge of a cliff suddenly came up to greet him. Peering over the edge, Andrew found himself staring into a deep gorge, large holes littering one of the walls below. He spotted the white figure to his right. His head flicked towards the apparition, hoping to catch a glimpse of what it was. All he saw was the figure disappearing down a natural ramp that led down into the gorge. Swallowing thickly, Andrew followed steadily with renewed vigor.

Reaching the bottom of the path, Andrew felt the last of his strength beginning to leave him. Ahead of him was a cave entrance, white light pouring out in large waves. Limping forward, Andrew was desperate to follow the white figure. As the white figure lapsed into the light, Andrew too, felt himself slipping away.

And that’s when he saw the creature standing before him in the darkness beneath his lids.

A pony.

8 - Apparitions

Apparitions

Andrew stood in the blackness, stick in hand. The fatigue that had plagued him had miraculously disappeared, replaced with a cold, numbing sensation in his feet. A cursory glance about told him that the pony and him were the only entities within the void. Rolling his shoulders, Andrew walked towards the pony. Halting a comfortable distance away, he settled down onto one knee to reach eye level with the being.

“Hello,” he greeted with warmth. “I don’t suppose you can speak, can you?” The hornless creature snorted, but its language went right over Andrew’s head. Seeing Andrew’s lack of understanding, the pony turned and started trotting off into the black. Grunting, Andrew heaved himself upwards and followed, gripping his stick tightly.

“Where are you going?” The pony turned, eyes devoid of emotion. Andrew felt a shudder pass through his body; the orbs were unnerving. “Er, we.” The pony returned to its previous speed. The duo continued like that for a time, Andrew’s eyes flicking about the emptiness whilst the pony ahead continued a calm pace. The silence was just beginning to get to Andrew when he heard a hoof clack hard against something. The ability to hear something besides his own breathing broke Andrew away from his lackluster sightseeing.

Somehow, the reemergence of the cave walls and floors had gone unnoticed by him. He recognized the place as the entrance of the cave where he had blacked out. The pony did not slow down to inspect the surroundings, unlike the distracted Andrew. The incessant tapping of a hoof rang in Andrew’s ears.

“Sorry!” He held his left hand up to his ear, grumbling. “Jeez.” Suddenly, Andrew jumped forwards at the black color overriding the stone beneath him. He ran forward, ignoring the pain in his leg, in order to catch up with the pony. Wheezing in pain, Andrew looked back. Taking notice of the light emitting from the ethereal pony, Andrew realized that where the light touched, the world around him shone.

“I better keep up with you then, huh?” The pony simply stared at him again. “Okay, that’s really creepy.” Thankfully, the pony was quick to look away. As the two continued their journey, Andrew found himself taking notice of more and more features along the walls. Eventually, the colored lines from the cave he had awoken in the previous afternoon showed themselves again.

“What?” He blinked owlishly. New colors appeared in the patterns, the ribbons of red, orange, and blue, now joined by pink, magenta, and a deep purple. His feet began moving on his own as he traced the lines with his eyes, squinting hard in an effort to uncover their secrets. Alas, nothing came to him but a strain in his eyes. Blinking, Andrew returned to the pony, keeping up with the steady pace of hooves easily enough.

Eventually, the colors ended, and soon after, the sounds of hooves on stone dimmed away. As a new area was lit by the strange emission, the stone gave way to grass and dirt. The walls disappeared, replaced once more by blackness. By his estimation, they had been walking for the better part of five minutes, but Andrew knew there was something wrong with his circadian clock, prompting a swift and easy dismissal of the estimate. There was simply something strange about being able to walk from one end of a cave at the bottom of a gorge and out into a meadow in such a short period; it just didn't add up.

The light grew brighter, showing more grass and flowers around them. Butterflies appeared, drifting in the non-existent gale that blew, and Andrew saw the tidbits of a blue bird's wing cutting down through the darkness above. A tortoise stopped to allow the pony to pass, and Andrew, assuming that said tortoise would wait for him, continued forward. Naturally, the tortoise nipped at his ankle as Andrew tripped over the slow critter. Biting the inside of his cheek to withhold his outburst, Andrew continued, ignoring the tortoise that disappeared into the mist of black behind him.

Finally, the pony stopped walking. Birds could be heard singing quietly in the void, and the butterflies still fluttered around, but an exclusion zone seemed to have arisen ahead of the pony and teenager, devoid of any animals. The pony shone brighter, and in a flash, disappeared.

Lowering the arm that he had raised to shield his eyes, Andrew gawked at the sight before him. The blackness around him had given way to a clean, lightly clouded sky, and the grass around him had visibly brightened. Nearby, a skunk and rabbit were sharing a small blackberry bush between themselves, and further away, a grizzly tactically pawed occasionally at a river, clearly looking for easy pickings. Andrew, however, was occupied with another thing entirely; a giant, burly oak.

The tree towered over him, its great roots snaking along the ground beneath its thick branches. The animals seemed to steer clear of the tree, but Andrew approached, curious of a pair of imprints pressed into the wood. They were barely visible from afar, but as Andrew came close enough to stand on one of the roots if he so wished, he saw the figures of a sun and crescent moon. The tree rumbled as he brushed a hand against the figure, causing him to pull back. The branches shuddered, and with the increasing glow as a sign of something yet to come, Andrew ran back to where the pony had disappeared.

Watching with no little amount of awe, the leaves at the edges of the tree’s top began to turn silver. The green leaves transformed to silver as if a wave was crashing over them. He expected the transformation to stop once the leaves had reached the trunk of the tree, but instead, the trunk began to turn into the white of a birch. The marks of the sun and moon glowed brightly, accentuated by a yellow and turquoise hue that clashed with the white of the tree. As the final roots of the tree shifted to white, Andrew saw something begin to sprout from the ground ahead of him.

A bright, pink flower bulb suddenly burst forth from the earth, sending animals and dirt alike scattering. It blossomed, revealing an amethyst sphere within. Andrew stood there for a time, processing what had just occurred. When all was said and done, Andrew only had a few words to say.

“That… is a thing.”

Reaching down, Andrew cautiously took the orb from the strange flower. A quick inspection of the sphere told him that it was perfectly smooth; a fact that did not slip his mind in the slightest. It just wasn’t natural, yet the evidence was there; it had sprouted from a flower, and a tree, no less.

Looking back at the tree, Andrew saw the colors slipping away, the cycle of transformation playing in reverse. In his hand, the orb began to vibrate, and with a start, Andrew watched as the wisps of silver seemed to just slide off of the leaves, the color waving through the air and into the orb. A strange tingling sensation gripped through the fingers in his hand, akin to that of static electricity, he noted. As the process seemed to finish up, the prior colors had returned to the tree, the shapes of the sun and moon back to their simple indented forms among the brown bark and green leaves.

A warmth spread through the orb, and Andrew suddenly found himself back in the darkness. This time, he could not even see himself. Holding the orb close to his side, Andrew tightened his grip on the stick. A sickening sensation was rising in his stomach, and Andrew knew exactly why. Feeling a breeze slip past him, he called blindly out into the eerie quiet.

"Hello?” Andrew felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end as the pitter patter of some creature skittered across the landscape.

He wasn’t alone.

The teenager went to take a step back, but lost his footing on some sort of extrusion. He fell violently, arms flailing about. The stick was long gone, but he could feel the warmth of the orb nearby. Something sparked within him about the amethyst orb. The tree had given it to him, and though he did not fully understand why a tree had been able to give him such an unspoken communication, he knew that the artifact before him was important.

Mustering up the strength within him, Andrew felt the feelings of fatigue flood through him once more as he lunged for the orb. As he pulled it close to his chest, Andrew knew only one thing:

Pain.

Immediately, he felt the cuts and bruises that had disappeared from his fall reappear, all of their effects felt simultaneously. Something wrapped around him, uncomfortably furry limbs holding onto him tightly. The creature dug into his flesh, and with a horrifying crack, Andrew felt himself plunged into further distress.

He screamed, screamed in pain, screamed in fear, and he screamed in longing for safety.

And the void answered his calls.

The orb pulsed within his vice-like grip, the warmth intensifying. The heat burnt through his hoodie, but Andrew could not tell what was happening to him within the pain. Another crack sounded, but Andrew knew not what it was. He was still screaming, voice growing hoarse, but something was overcoming him, ordering him to fight back against the creature in his grip. Through the pain, Andrew realized that he had held his eyes shut for the entire time. With the last of his strength, Andrew forced his eyes to open.

And all of the pain was suddenly gone.

Andrew held the orb in two hands, the stick long lost in the trip. He looked down into the glowing orb, the grass of the night illuminated by its glow. His ears were pounding, but something right in front of him was screaming loud enough to be heard; the spider that he had kicked the fang from earlier.

Yet, there was something far more unnerving than that.

Andrew stared at himself as he ran off towards the forest of the berry thicket, two ponies tucked safely under his arms as the jogger used his trained stamina to its limits. Mint and the pony were terrified, but Andrew would protect them.

Andrew knew that already; it had already happened.

He stared at the spider, the orb firmly grasped between his two hands. The spider stopped its wails, and clambered back to its legs. It glared daggers at Andrew.

“You do not belong.”

“I know.” His lips twitched upwards in satisfaction. “But I’m needed.”

With a hiss, the denizen of the night retreated backwards with its kin, with nary a glance back at Andrew. The teenager dropped the amethyst, letting the glowing orb roll off to the side. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, taking notice of the rapid thumping in his chest, and the blurs of memories he still held of the present. He walked over to where the fang of the spider lay, the pristine bone shimmering under the light of the orb. Andrew held the prize up, inspecting it carefully.

"A fine tool," a voice called out from behind him. Andrew turned, lowering the bone to watch the orb. "Tis wrought forth from chaos, and it shall balance this earth."

“What is this land?” Andrew asked. He was on autopilot, his minds and actions committed of their own accords.

"Your land, keeper." The orb brightened for a second. "Do not squander my prize."

“I won’t,” Andrew promised, scooping up the orb in his other hand.

“I know.”

Andrew awoke in a cold sweat. He remembered nothing of the night prior, save for his journey into the forest.

“Oh, what did I do last night…” he groaned, holding his stomach as he sat upwards. Mint snorted, sinking her head deeper into his lap. He peeked a single eye open to avoid the full blast of the beaming morning sun. “Right.” His eyes wandered the plains, eyeing the earth pony den and the other unicorns, much closer than he remembered. Andrew’s eyes widened as they landed on a pair of misplaced, yet familiar objects.

A fang and an amethyst orb.

9 - Berries

Berries

Andrew rubbed the sands of sleep from his eyes and checked his watch. The seiko spring clockwork read that it was seven in the morning, and a quick glance in the direction of the beaming celestial object confirmed it. Wishing to give his sore leg some breathing room, Andrew gently removed Mint’s head from his groin and stood. Hissing in pain, Andrew bent down to massage his right leg’s calf. Satisfied that the soreness would not sprout up for a little while, Andrew picked up his walking stick and made his way over to the somehow existent orb and fang.

Andrew picked up the baseball sized orb of amethyst, giving it a quick once over. It definitely had not come along with the other, smaller pieces of amethyst brought from the geode a day prior, but there it was. He kicked the other mysteriously apparent object over, frowning at the white keratin that was the size of his upper arm. Andrew still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to kick the tooth off of the spider in such a hurried movement, but what really mattered was that he had gotten the ponies safely away. He returned his attentions to the orb, this time slowing down to inspect it thoroughly.

The mass of quartz amethyst was strangely smooth, lacking any impurities upon its surface. Another unnatural quality of the sphere was its reflectivity; he could see his own face in the meticulously polished surface. Further curious, the orb seemed to project a passive warmth. Holding it up to his cheek, Andrew grinned at the prickling sensation that played over his skin. Hoofsteps behind him forced him to look at Mint.

“Andrew?”

“Morning, Mint.” Andrew knelt down to rub one of Mint’s ears, dropping the orb temporarily. Mint hummed in contentment, a hind leg thumping rhythmically against the ground. In the midst of adjusting her stance, a stray hoof struck the orb, sending her reeling back in surprise. Andrew blinked at the mare growling at the amethyst orb. Tapping the orb once, Andrew felt a spike of electricity surge from the orb to his finger. Hissing, Andrew sucked on the stinging finger, eyes trained on the gently pulsating amethyst. The faint glow of purple faded away as the sun passed the clouds blocking its rays.

“Weird.” He knelt down, cautiously reaching for the orb. The pulsing flashes of color disappeared, and the orb suddenly felt cool to the touch. Andrew spotted the earth ponies approaching the unicorns, so he pocketed the orb in his pants pocket. Patting Mint on the head, Andrew stood from his crouch. “Cmon, let’s go see what these guys want.”

As the two made their way over to the still awakening herds, Andrew couldn’t help but eye the hollow that the earth ponies had created the night before. He could still see where the ponies had lain down to sleep away, their herd’s forms printed into the earth. Why exactly had they created a hollow to sleep in? The unicorns did not do that, and the pegasi…

Andrew glanced up at the clouds above, scanning fruitlessly for a pegasus.

The pegasi were just pegasi.

Andrew turned back to Mint, the mare stopped in order to pluck a carrot from the earth. Rolling his eyes, Andrew walked over to the nearby herds of unicorns and pegasi, just in time to find himself within hearing range of an intense debate.

Lemon, as Andrew had taken to calling the angry yellow unicorn, was currently in the process of throwing all of his hatred into moving hooves. The brown mare was standing stalwart before him, chest puffed outwards. Her ears flicked idly as Lemon ended his rant with the stomp of his hooves.

Tossing her mane, she turned away, snorting. "No."

Growling, Lemon took a step forward, but a few smart unicorns held him back with their forelegs. Like a child chastised for straying too close to the road, Lemon sauntered off, tail swishing back and forth angrily.

“What’s up, guys?” The earth ponies turned to him, bowing low to the ground. The unicorns followed after a moment. Sighing, Andrew stomped his stick into the ground twice. “Enough of that.” The herds stood. “I don’t even want to know what happened.” Reaching into his hoodie pocket, Andrew pulled an empty hood. Emptying out the dust that had taken its home within the sack, Andrew sighed.

“Looks like I’ve got no berries right now.” The brown mare came down from her high, her attitude skittish once more. Nosing the bag in Andrew’s hand, she took a deep whiff of the cloth. The mare pulled back to look up at Andrew, nickering softly. Food?

“‘Fraid not.” The mare blinked, then brought herself to the ground. Sniffing like a hound dog, Andrew watched as the mare began to make her way to the woods, following some sort of scent trail.

“Uh?”

“Wrrh!” Mint sounded through the carrot in her mouth. As she caught up with a gallop to the disappearing earth pony, both herds began to follow, plucking vegetables and flowers as they went. Shrugging, Andrew put the bag away and began to follow, ignoring the warmth that had suddenly grown back to life in his pocket.

As expected, the mare had led Andrew and his friends back to the berry thicket. The earth ponies bowed once more to Andrew, but were soon picking berries and dropping them in a single pile near the campfire. The unicorns, despite efforts to pluck berries of their own, were ultimately thwarted by the speed and enthusiasm of the earth ponies. Grinning, Andrew messed Mint’s mane, the mare watching the harvest from by his side.

“They certainly are depleting the thicket, aren’t they?” Snorting, Mint plucked a stray berry that an earth pony had accidentally knocked from the pile. The earth pony sent a glare in Mint’s direction, but upon seeing Andrew watching him with half lidded eyes, the stallion simply bowed again and resumed plucking berries from the bushes.

“So what’s up with that anyway?” He moved down to Mint’s neck, the mare cooing at the attention. Greeny looked up, but the tired look in his eyes gave a hint for the lack of interruption in Andrew’s efforts. “The whole universal bowing, I mean.” As usual, the mare did not reply.

'Still have to fix that.'

“Light?”

“Huh?” Mint pointed her hoof towards the northern part of the clearing. As Andrew followed her gaze, he felt his heart sink. From the darkness of a tree hollow, two piercing red eyes peeked out. As the creature began to slink towards the camp, Andrew drew himself straight and approached, stick held in two hands. Sweat began to run down Andrew’s face in a downpour as the creature began to reveal the entirety of its body.

“Oh gods...”

The mutant drew itself upwards, the incredibly snakelike creature hissing all the while. Green scales lined a thick and meaty tail that extended for quite a length, yellow legs sprouting from the top of the tail. Two bat-like wings extruded from the creature, flapping in tandem to hold the creature up. The head of the creature, which came as a cruel joke and pure disgust to Andrew, was that of a chicken.

Swallowing thickly, Andrew advanced, feeling the crowd of ponies herding behind him. He locked eyes with the creature, immediately feeling a shiver run down his spine. Something behind those red eyes burnt with power, and Andrew couldn’t help but readjust his posture as that same feeling ran across his heels. The cockatrice approached, riding low across the ground, eyes still trained on Andrew. Determined to hold his position against the threat, Andrew brought his stick upwards.

“Back!” He shoved the branch towards the creature, the feeling of power momentarily interrupted as the cockatrice swerved to avoid the weapon. Suddenly, the creature lunged forward, eyes stopping inches from Andrew’s own. Andrew froze, breath taken away.

Below him, he could feel something flaking around his boots, but he also felt a warmth in his pocket. He could not move to investigate either of them, locked into the eyes of the cockatrice. After a moment, the creature let up, flapping backwards with a worried squawk. Andrew recovered efficiently, just quick enough to jab the branch into the creature’s chest and push it into the stone behind his log. Eyes full of fear, the cockatrice writhed in an effort to escape its place between the rock and stick.

“I don’t want to see you around here again, capiche?” The chicken squawked again, staring him in the eyes. “I said, you got it?” It nodded. Grunting, Andrew shoved the cockatrice away, stick still held firmly in his two hands as the creature scrambled away. The cockatrice stopped by the bushes, snatching a clawful of berries.

“Get out of here!” The roar of Andrew finally sent the bird away, nothing but feathers and berries in place of the snake. Groaning, Andrew’s hand went to his side, feeling pain swell up once again. Mint came by, reaching up to press her snout to his side. Andrew smiled, ready to thank the unicorn for the comfort, but paused upon seeing the blue light that surrounded her horn. He said nothing as she placed the horn to his side, simply letting out a breath that he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

The cool sensation was a stark contrast to the still burning orb in his pocket. Andrew ignored the heat, instead choosing to focus on the light that was now surrounding his side. He saw Mint’s teeth bared in concentration, watching in awe as his shirt was lifted up to reveal the large purple bruise on his side. This time, the cold came from the air around him, and Andrew was unprepared to hold back the shiver he felt. Mint murmured quietly as she traced the outline of the bruise. Then, with an almost surreal appearance, Andrew watched as the bruise began to levitate off of him.

The purple mass sat in the air, encompassed by Mint’s blue aura. It did not stay still, however, as it wiggled about in a revolting manner. Andrew could feel the mix of horror and fascination of watching his own bruise literally peeled from him, but it did nothing to dissuade him from looking. The disposal of the bruise was also quite terrifying, as Mint simply dropped it to the ground.

“Why would you do that?” Andrew yelped, jumping backwards from the blob as it rose.

Mint whinnied abashedly. "Oops!"

“Oops is right!” Andrew recalled his earlier phrase as he watched the purple blob rise to the size of the campfire; the unicorn was not being cool anymore. The ponies around had also begun to panic as they watched the ordeal.

Until Lemon and the brown earth pony ran onto the scene.

Snorting loudly, Lemon brought both his front hooves down on the blob, splitting it in two. The brown mare stomped down on one half, and Lemon on the other. This caused the now two blobs to further split, and as the size shrunk and quantity grew, the crowd found themselves increasingly amused, rather than worried.

It was minutes later when Lemon finally let out a whinny of victory after having stamped out the final bit of the purple mass. The brown mare slammed hard into his side with her shoulder, sending the unicorn stumbling. While the two entertained the crowd with the ensuing argument, Andrew pulled Mint aside.

“Thanks, Mint.” The mare smiled up at the human, eyes closed as she enjoyed the petting that she was being given. “Unfortunately, you’ve only made things a little better for you right now.” As Andrew took away his hand, Mint pouted up at the teenager. Andrew simply grinned back, scooping her up in his arms as he made his way to his log bed.

“You, and I—” he set the mare down beside his log, taking a seat “—are going to have a little chat.”

10 - Words

Words

Andrew placed his surprisingly sturdy walking stick against the stone wall.

“What’s the best way to go about this…” Scratching his head, Andrew looked around the clearing for something to focus on. He spotted the earth pony and unicorn foals playing a game that appeared to be similar to tag. The teenager pat Mint on the shoulder and pointed.

“Run.” She eyed the scene, watching the young ponies about the clearing. “Running.” She looked blankly up at him, eyes scanning his face.

Andrew smiled sheepishly at the mare. 'Yeah, I’m not good at this.'

“Run.” She tested the new word a few times. Mint looked back to the foals. “Running?” she queried, pointing her hoof at the motion. Andrew nodded, beaming encouragingly.

“Yes, that’s it.”

“Yes?”

Andrew nodded his head slowly, making sure she would see the motion completely. "Yes."

"Yes." The mare’s eyes lit up, and she soon began nodding herself.

Andrew hummed thoughtfully to himself as the mare repeated the word over and over. May as well go the full mile.

“No.” Andrew pointed at himself, shaking his head from side to side. “No.” The mare shook her head, repeating the motion.

“No?” The word seemed harder for her to take in this time.

“No.” He repeated the same head gesture. Mint, pondered something for a moment, but eventually nodded her head.

“No.”

Andrew snickered, shaking his head.

“I can already see that this is going to be confusing. But,” he pat the mare on the head, “At least we’ve got the most basic of speech down.” Mint smiled at the touch, pressing her eyes shut as she nodded into Andrew’s hand.

“Yes.”

As much as he wanted to enjoy the feeling of her soft mane, Andrew eventually pulled the hand away, far too soon for Mint’s own likings.

“Right, any other words you think we can learn from here?” Mint seemed to understand, for after a moment, she pointed at the berry thicket.

She made a strange neigh. "Berries."

“Berries.” Andrew stood and stalked over to the pile, pulling a handful out quickly, as to avoid the attentions of the still arguing parties. Coming back over, Andrew reseated himself. He popped one into his mouth, and offered another to Mint. “Berry.”

“Berry?” she asked, looking at the berry in his hand. Andrew nodded. She pointed at the berries in Andrew’s other hand. “Berry.” He shook his head. “Berries?” Andrew grinned at the understanding of quantity. Mint smiled back as she took the berry from Andrew’s outstretched hand and munched on the fruit. As the two enjoyed their small snack of the handful, Andrew thought of a few more words that the two would find most useful.

Andrew gestured around the clearing. “Home.” He pointed at the herd of unicorns. “Unicorns.” Thinking, Andrew added in another important word. “And…” He held the word in the air for a short while, long enough to let it sink in before he made his next statement. He gestured at the earth ponies. “Ponies.”

The first three words seemed to be understood easily enough, but Mint seemed hesitant about the last word. She pointed at the earth ponies. “Ponies.” She redirected her hoof to the unicorns. “Ponies.” She looked up at Andrew questioningly. “Ponies?”

'Never thought about it like that before…' He shrugged. “Yes.” Thinking, Andrew brought his finger upwards, pointing at the hole in the canopy. “Ponies.” Mint’s eyes lit up and she stood, nodding.

“Yes…” She trotted over to the center of the clearing, where Lemon and the brown mare were still waging a war. “Ponies!” Despite the broken fragments of English that made up her tone, it still came out as intimidating. Andrew reached for his stick and stood, making his way over to the mare. Mint had gathered the attentions of both herds, the bickering halted. She stomped over to Lemon, glaring down at the stallion as he shrank. “No!”

Holding back a snicker, Andrew couldn’t help but watch with some amusement as the stallion was suddenly berated by two mares. 'Sucks to be you.' After a few minutes, Mint stepped back, her business finished.

The brown mare went to continue in her rant, but Mint stopped her with a stomp of her hoof. “No.” Making a couple of orders to the unicorns via their pony language, Mint returned to the watchful Andrew, ignoring the unicorns and earth ponies, the herds suddenly cooperative as they ate side by side from the pile.

“Those were my berries, I’ll have you know.” Mint looked up at him, head tilted. “Nevermind,” he sighed.

"Andrew?”

He looked up at the use of his name, momentarily stirred. 'Still getting used to that.' “Yes?”

“No… no home?” She pointed at the herds. “No home, ponies.”

“No home?”

The mare nodded. “No home,” she repeated. She tapped the earth lightly. “Andrew home?” Andrew understood what she was asking almost immediately; is this your home?

“I suppose it is…” He shook his head at his momentary lapse. “Yes,” he reaffirmed.

“Ponies home… and… bushkeeper home?” Something stirred within Andrew at the final realization of what Mint wanted, what she wanted for her herd, for the ponies. Crouching down, Andrew slowly brought his hand through her mane and down her neck.

"Yes.”

“Ponies!” Mint yelled out into the sky above the plains. Huffing, she pointed upwards, then looked to Andrew.

“Pegasi,” he supplied.

“Pegasi!” she yelled this time. Andrew sighed, shaking his head. While Mint was occupied calling for the pegasi, Andrew decided to reflect on the previous day’s events.

He remembered waking up in the cave and stepping out in a green pasture. The valley, he realized, had been full of other creatures that he had neglected to look at. What were they doing out there with the ponies? Andrew supposed that it could have been an open grazing ground, but didn’t the area belong to the earth ponies, or did they simply not care?

Andrew glanced upwards. The pegasi cared about territory, but the herd leaders of the earth ponies and unicorns seemed averse to the idea. The black colt that had attacked him on sight and visited him during the night, had simply been protecting what he had seen as his clan’s territory, but his mother had shown that there was some sort of agreement between the pegasi and unicorns.

He looked back to the forest, thinking of the unicorns and earth ponies left to their feasting. What were the earth ponies’ role in all of this? They had taken him to their home and somehow healed most of his wounds, but Mint had spoken as if it was not their true home; they were looking for one. Did the unicorns have a pact with them, too? 'Maybe I’m interpreting Mint wrong.'

The giant black spiders. Had they taken up the home of those earth ponies? Or had the brown mare simply been sneaking apples from the grove? The daring night raid made more sense in that view, yet, the earth ponies seemed to be strong and fit, despite the fact that they showed bone like the unicorns and pegasi.

Andrew looked back to the earth pony den. They had also clearly shown that they had a much better concept of shelter than the unicorns or pegasi. Perhaps the earth ponies were the ones who had painted the murals upon the cave’s walls… but what did that even mean?

'What was I doing in that cave, anyway?' He recalled falling off the ledge and being carried by the earth pony stallion, but why had he been carried to the pool of water?

The earth ponies had done something to heal Andrew, and he felt that the cave and It’s pool of water had something to do with it. He would have to go back and investigate it further.

Finally, Andrew went to reflect on the last hours of the day. The amethyst, the tooth, the—

“Wait a second…” Andrew pat himself down. The orb was still sitting in his pocket, ominous as ever, but the keratin had disappeared. Eyes widening, Andrew surveyed the area for the artifact. He had gone and lost it, and he had known that the bone was important.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” Frustration plagued the teenager as he scurried across the plains, looking for the bone. He stopped, pivoted towards the den; the landmark would serve as a good place to scan the area from. Retracing his steps from earlier that morning, Andrew found himself standing before Greeny, the stallion lying on his stomach, seemingly occupied with something.

“Greeny, what are you… you…” The stallion looked up, snorted at Andrew, then returned to the bone, the bone that he was currently carving.

Andrew could not help but come around to the front of the stallion to watch him work. Greeny looked up as he gnawed the bone like a dog, but otherwise ignored Andrew. All along the bone, Greeny had gnawed an intricate looking series of carvings. Near the top of the tooth, he had carved intertwining ribbons. Despite their lack of color, Andrew felt that they were that of the ribbons in the cave. As Greeny leant back to admire his work, Andrew leant closer.

The carvings that Greeny had finished could only be described as beautiful. The circles and lines that made up the engravings connected in small groups, encircling the bottom of the bone. Andrew noted that the ribbons were also just above where the engravings had started, and as he looked up at Greeny, he noticed something even stranger; Greeny’s mouth was moving, quiet murmurs of the pony language reaching Andrew’s ears, his eyes tracing over the lines.

Greeny smiled down at the carving, blew lightly on it, and set the bone down. Andrew leant back, shooting the smiling unicorn a raised eyebrow. Greeny’s smile slowly fell, and with an audible grumble, nudged the bone towards Andrew. Cautiously, Andrew thanked him and held the bone up.

Andrew stared at the shapes that had been carefully gnawed into the bone. One thing immediately popped out at Andrew; a bipedal figure, standing amongst a group of unicorns with a long stick in hand. The shape of the sun and moon, separated by clouds, sat in the background. He could see one or two pegasi floating above some trees, but what attracted him most besides the human figure, were the lines beneath the earth that the unicorns and human were standing on.

From a passing glance, Andrew could only see the shapes as simple lines, but as the patterns began to repeat themselves in alternating patterns, he began to realize that they were writings. Greeny had written in some sort of language, and he must have been reading over the bone to make sure he had carved it correctly.

Andrew stood, taking a step backwards from Greeny. The stallion stood, looking up at the human with confusion. Andrew kept his eyes trained on the bone in his hand, trapped in awe of the pony pictograph language.

'No wonder they’ve been showing so much intelligence.' Andrew looked back at Mint, who had begun to whinny at the descending flock of pegasi. 'They’re just nomads.'

“Bushkeeper!” Mint cried, looking straight at the human. Shaking himself, Andrew slowed to match Greeny’s walking speed. Andrew walked in silence, ignoring Greeny’s calls for him to return from his thoughts.

Mint was making good progress on learning English, and the knowledge of an existing pictograph language for the ponies meant that teaching an alphabet would definitely be possible, but perhaps a little difficult. Mint’s smart enough, Andrew figured, eyeing the pegasi as they alighted before Mint. Handing the bone back to Greeny, Andrew took his place beside Mint.

“Why’d you bring ‘em here, Mint?” She looked up at Andrew, a stern look on her face.

“Homes.” Andrew blinked at Mint’s ability to figure out plural words, but as the purpose of the meeting dawned upon him, he turned back to the pegasi, expression serious.

'Territory disputes.'

Author's Note

I tried my best to put in more development and eliminate some confusion for this chapter.

11 - Interests

Interests

As the pegasi landed, Andrew could immediately feel the tension rise up from his stomach and into his throat. Swallowing in an attempt to clear the unwelcome feeling, he tugged at his hoodie’s collar. Despite the sun beaming down on the plains, it still felt chilly outside. Andrew shook his head and refocused on the now trotting pegasi.

The grey pegasus mare approached, and Mint greeted her with a neutral neigh. "Herd leader." Andrew had to resist dropping his mouth open as he continued to understand Mint. "How is the flock?"

"Hungry," the herd leader snorted, looking back at her uneasily pacing herd. "The Greenland has done well for us…" The herd leader turned back, stomping a hoof. "But not well enough."

This time Mint snorted a strong gust of hot breath, right into pegasus’ muzzle. "You know well that we will not leave."

"I know." the herd leader sighed, scuffing a hoof against the earth. "Those wingless are another problem; more food to be wasted."

"It is not a waste." Mint growled, taking a step forward. "Every life is valuable." The warm amethyst orb began to burn into Andrew’s leg, and with a hiss, he yanked it out of his pocket. Mint looked worriedly at the human staring into the hot, tempering orb.

“Bushkeeper?” she asked.

Andrew kept his eyes on the orb. “I’m fine.” Still worried, Mint turned back to the nearby pegasus. Andrew could see wisps of light beneath the surface of the orb, and though it did not burn as much for the time, when the ponies began to talk he felt the searing heat begin to pick up again. He focused harder on the conversation, eyes still trained on the artifact in his hand.

"This…"

"Bushkeeper."

"Bushkeeper… It could help us. We know it helps you."

"No." The orb shook at that.

Andrew looked up and watched Mint carefully.

"Then it is us or you… there is no compromise." With each word Andrew understood out of the pony language, his view of the pegasus herd leader dropped further and further.

'So much for being nice.' He slipped the tingling orb back into his pocket. Thankfully, it stopped emitting a scalding level of heat, but it remained warm.

Mint shook her head. "Go east."

"The marshlands are unsuitable."

"Go west."

"They are nothing but rocky plains."

"Then you will live in the Greenland, and you will learn to live alongside the herds."

"We will do no such thing." the mare huffed. Mint’s gaze softened.

"What happened, herd leader? Peace used to shroud these lands."

The grey pegasus looked away. "The long cold comes closer, and I fear we will not have the food to last."

That was worrying to Andrew; winter was coming.

"May we not share?"

The pegasus took a preparatory breath. "We carry too much pride to allow that." When Mint faced the pegasus again, she did not even look angry, she was simply disappointed.

"We will be able to gather more food with your help." Her ears perked up. "You winged can see the earth from the Above… Surely that could help us all?"

The pegasus seemed willing to agree with the statement, but after a moment, she shook her head.

"No."

Mint lowered her head and sighed.

"That is a shame."

The pegasus straightened herself. "We will fly north to graze… and on the eve of the Snow Moon, we will return."

"And then?"

"You will have food prepared for us, or we shall force you from these lands." Andrew held his breath as Mint silently fumed.

"Perhaps," she relented. "Goodbye, winged one."

"Goodbye." With nary a glance back, the herd leader took off, the pegasi following, save for one. Andrew bent down to one knee as the black colt approached him.

“You’re going for a while, it sounds like.” The colt ignored the comment and held his hoof out. Curious, Andrew slowly extended his hand. Grinning, the colt curled Andrew’s fingers into a fist and bumped it. Andrew’s eyes widened at the pseudo-fist bump, but smiled as the colt snorted and flew off.

“Bushkeeper?” Andrew reluctantly stopped waving to the disappearing form of the colt.

“Yes?”

“Home?” Mint pointed at the forest. Andrew thought about it for a moment, but shook his head.

“No.” Mint tilted her head at that. Andrew looked back out towards the north, where the pegasi were already nearing the waterfall. He clutched his walking stick a little closer to him. “I’m going to do so some scouting.”

Mint and Greeny had returned to the clearing, but Andrew had taken himself southeast of the central plain. He figured that if the northern part of the plain was occupied by dangerous spiders, that the southeast plain couldn’t fare any worse than that. There had been a small forest of trees, a little over a mile wide, and as Andrew pushed through the last of them, he found himself standing on the edge of a deep gorge. Andrew kicked a nearby stone over the edge. It fell for a solid seven seconds before hitting the bottom.

He let loose a whistle. “Yeesh.” Looking to the south, he saw that his view at the end of the ravine was blocked by yet another set mountains. As Andrew turned back to the north to walk along the edges of the berry thicket forest, a strange feature carved into the rocks caught his attention; a ramp leading down into the gorge. There was a flash of light from the bottom of the gorge, brief, but traceable to the mouth of a cave. Curiosity got the best of Andrew, and so he walked over to the ramp. It took a solid five minutes of walking to reach the top of the ramp, but he was soon descending down into the depths.

As Andrew stood before the cave entrance, he realized that the same mushrooms from the cave he had awoken in before lit the cavern. What the walls lacked, however, were the ribbons of color. With a single sliver of hesitation, Andrew entered the cave.

Something was familiar about the grey walls around him. He couldn’t quite place his finger on why he thought that way, but he knew that he had been there before. Black bats hung from the ceiling, their bodies wrapped up in their wings as the nocturnal creatures slept the day away. A fist-sized spider dangled from the ceiling, too occupied in knitting it's web to notice Andrew. As he came to the end of the path, he entered a new, much more open area.

The room was occupied mostly by a large mass of stone in the center. Andrew was able to discern that the form was a tree, despite the lack of leaves and the strange, jagged stone branches. Circular stone stalagmites stood beside the cave walls, topped mostly mushrooms, but also a few wildflowers. Andrew looked up to observe a small crack of light that was streaming into the cavern. How the sunlight was able to reach that far into the ravine was a mystery to Andrew, but there was a bigger mystery to investigate just ahead of him.

As he approached the stone sculpture, he took in the indented form of a sun and a moon. Recognition suddenly flooded his mind; this was the place where the orb had come from. The question; how did he know that this place had given him the orb? Andrew growled in annoyance when he was unable to come up with a reason for his knowledge of the place. He recalled that the tree had sprouted the orb, but something was strange about the tree, something that was different…

“It’s stone!” he blurted. A couple of bats behind him were startled, but went back to sleep despite the disturbance. He lowered his voice. “This wasn’t stone before… but when was before? Last night?” Andrew looked the tree up and down again. “The orb came from… a flower… but the tree is stone…”

Before he could further ponder the strangeness of the tree, a flash of light came from the behind it. Stepping forward, Andrew cautiously peered into the mushroomless darkness ahead. The light appeared again, but it was too bright to discern anything around it. Andrew looked around and plucked a big blue mushroom from nearby. Much to his disappointment, the mushroom immediately faded out. Sighing, Andrew eyed the darkness, thinking of something to light his way.

'The orb!' Scrambling for his pocket, Andrew took the amethyst orb in one hand. It didn’t glow immediately, but as frustration began to rise up once more inside him, a bright purple glow erupted from the orb. Lowering the orb a little so that he could see, Andrew began walking further into the cavern.

There was a mess of twisting turns in the strange tunnels, and on every turn, Andrew could see the light make its appearance known again and again. Impatience began to set in, the curiosity quickly fading. Andrew’s legs were getting tired by the fifteenth corner, but it seemed that his time was finally being rewarded when he stepped out into a field of grass.

As the orb’s light grew dim, Andrew slipped it back into his pocket. The field was quite small, as a wall of trees came up to form a border, not too far from him. In the middle of the field was a hunk of stone, and laying atop it was a brown, haggard mass, covered in mud. As Andrew approached it, he realized exactly what it was.

“My pack!” Andrew dropped the stick and stumbled the rest of the way forward in excitement. He slapped off the majority of the mud covering the object, and there was no doubt that what was laying in front of him was his backpack. Andrew zipped through the pockets of the large brown backpack, but he was unable to find anything that he had placed inside. It seemed that all he had left were his clothes, his watch, and now, his backpack. Despite the inconvenience, Andrew was pleased; the backpack would certainly help with exploring.

'How did it get here?' Andrew frowned, carefully checking the perimeter of the field. He had dropped the heavy pack to outrun the giant hydra that had been chasing him. Yet, there seemed to be no sign of a marshland anywhere nearby. Looking back at the stone that the bag had been sitting on, Andrew noticed that a set of muddy hoofprints lay on one side of the rock. Following the trail, Andrew expected that it would lead to a dead end, but he was surprised to find that it led straight back into the cave.

Turning back to the bag, Andrew cleaned it off the best he could, took one last glance around the strange clearing and then slung the bag on. He turned towards the cave and froze; the entrance was gone. Looking around, Andrew could see that the muddy hoofprints still led up to where the cave had once been, entrance replaced by a wall of stone. He looked upwards, neck straining to see the top of the cliff face. As the teenager realized that he now had no clue where he was, panic began to seep in, but he calmed himself.

'All I have to do is go north.' He found the sun and nodded. 'Then I just gotta go through the forest and back to the plains, or get lucky and find the thicket on the first go around.' Smiling, Andrew nodded his head; it was a plan, and that was a start. Full of optimism, the hiker picked his stick back up and made his way over to the northern trees of the field. He pushed aside the first branches in his way, but froze at a loud thumping.

Quite nearby, the roar of a hydra sent birds fluttering from their homes and into the sky above.

Author's Note

I split the last bit of this chapter up because the next scene would not have the correct pacing, so we'll see how many words the next chapter this weekend has. 3000 words doesn't seem viable for the way I write my stories, but I'll try it.

Thanks for reading, apologies for not being able to update with these small wordcounts on the daily.

12 - Conflicts

Conflicts

After the roar, Andrew had taken to treading more quietly. The thumps of the hydra moving continued to emanate from the north, and that worried Andrew; he was heading in that direction. The disappearance of the cave had unnerved him, and knowledge that a creature from a previous hostile encounter was present made the situation worse. Andrew’s side had begun to throb again, but he ignored it the best he could, instead directing his focus on the tree brambles ahead.

The forest was different from the one he had established his camp in. The trees were much more gnarled than the birch and oak, and their bark also held a much darker hue. The dirt of the woods was much more firm than Andrew had expected, and he couldn’t believe that trees were able to grow on the incline; there was practically no grass around.

He paused, a loud, rumbling roar surging through the air above him. Below him, the earth shook, pebbles slipping from their homes on the incline and back down towards the field. After a moment, all fell still. Andrew stood there, taking in the silence carefully. What had happened to the hydra? It no longer moved, and the forest’s eerie quiet had begun to dig into Andrew’s worries. After another minute of standing still, Andrew began moving up the slope once again.

Strange bubbling could be heard, and with a wince at a sudden earthen smell, Andrew realized that he was stepping into a bog. More specifically, the bog of the hydra. He took one last breath of the fresh air in the forest and stepped out into the marsh.

It was just like he remembered from three days prior; it was rank, muddy, and more importantly, full of frogs. Within moments of stepping onto the edges of the bog, various frogs that were sunbathing on the drier parts of the bog immediately began croaking at him. One nearby even jumped up from its place near Andrew and right onto his foot. As carefully he could, Andrew shook the annoying critter from his foot and began walking around the edge of the bog. He was just about to pass back into the forest to his left, but something caught his eye from the center of the bog in a small patch of grass. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it was something shiny, and most likely metallic. Andrew weighed his options; he could go and leave his curiosity unsated, or he could go snooping once again…

"Dibs!” he shouted, jumping over a group of squawking frogs and onto a dry patch of land towards the center. Within half a minute, Andrew had hopped between eight patches of land untouched by mud and reached the center island. Crouching down, he picked up the shiny object. He laughed in joy and pulled it close; it was his thermos. Andrew settled down, looking it over for any damage.

'How did this even get here?' Shrugging, Andrew slipped the relatively clean bottle back into its spot on his pack. He returned back to the edge of the clearing, gave a glare to a frog croaking loudly before him, then shifted back into the trees.

Feeling cheery with his discovery, Andrew brought the thermos out again and rolled it over in his hand, using his stick to make sure he would not trip over anything ahead of him. The metallic container had served him well for well over half a decade, having been an early present from one of his friends after their first hiking trip. It brought happy memories to his mind, but it also brought to light just how important storing food and water would be in the new land.

Winter was coming, that he knew for certain. Glazing over the fact that he could clearly understand the ponies at times, which he assumed had something to do with the orb, Andrew figured that the ponies had survived in these plains and forests for much longer than he had, so they must of had some understanding of storing food. He put the thermos back, glancing around the strange forest as he thought again to the ponies. They had no fire, but they did have a language. Teaching them how to create fire would be a good start in preparing for winter, but beyond that, Andrew did not truly know how to help the ponies any further.

'Simple tools, maybe? That would be a good start, especially for making shelter.' He thought back to the earth pony cavern, laughing quietly to himself. 'Those ones should be fine with their shelter, though.' Andrew basked in the birdsong that had returned to the woods, enjoying the walk to its fullest extent. The tree branches here were high enough to avoid pushing them out of the way, but as Andrew reached the fifteen minute mark in his walk, the trees gave way to their oak and birch brethren. A few more minutes found Andrew back in the Greenland. Heaving a sigh of relief, Andrew clambered up over the same hill he had climbed earlier and made his way to the center of the plain.

As he stood close to the earth pony den, he checked his watch. It had been about an hour since he had started his hike, which surprised him greatly. That left him with enough time to spend the rest of the morning with the ponies, or to scout further east. The bag on his back rested comfortably on his shoulders, but it was simply not useful at the moment. For the time being, Andrew decided to check in with the ponies at the camp, as well as drop off his possessions.

When Andrew came back into the clearing, he could see that most of the ponies were simply resting. He supposed that there really wasn’t much to do around here; hunger was sated with the berries, and water was provided by the stream nearby. Mint was one of the few ponies up and about, and she immediately came up to Andrew. He expected her to nuzzle him, or show some form of appreciation that had become normal for both Andrew and her, but all he received was a worried whinny.

"Bushkeeper?"

Andrew crouched down. “What’s up?” She looked around the clearing at the ponies, alerting Andrew to the fact that they weren’t resting, they were cowering.

Mint turned back to him, neighing. "Monster."

Andrew was immediately on his feet at that. “Monster?”

Mint pointed a hoof towards the south. 'The hydra,' he thought. The idea slipped away just as quickly as it had come when Mint redirected her hoof to the east. 'Or not.'

"Come," she snorted, motioning with her head for Andrew to follow. Sliding through a tight gap in the thicket of berry bushes, Andrew found himself standing amongst a small group of familiar ponies; Greeny and Lemon were making an exchange, whilst the orange earth pony, who had carried Andrew, and the brown mare, stood off to the side, watching the unicorns silently. The two unicorns halted their conversation and turned to Andrew, their expressions matching that of Mint.

The orange earth pony snorted and bowed his head at Andrew’s arrival. "Bushkeeper."

Andrew gave a curt nod and threw his eyes back to Mint. “What’s all this about, Mint?” The mare in question ignored him, instead rounding up the four ponies to form a group of six.

With another neigh, Mint and the ponies began walking.

Andrew followed the five ponies as they led him east. Uneasiness began to settle onto the group, Andrew taking notice of such when Greeny began to whimper, but Mint leant close to him, calming the stallion. After much more longer than Andrew expected, the group came to a stop at the end of the treeline. He checked his watch; noon had come around in their hourlong trip.

"There!"

Andrew looked up at the sound of Mint’s whimper, and he was horrified to see what was ahead of him.

A giant green valley covered the area far ahead of them, stretching for what was certainly miles. An incredibly tall peak sat about ten miles away to the northeast, two magnificent waterfalls visible from the group’s position at the edge of the thicket forest. Further east, a large river ran through a forest to the south, and north through a mountain chain attached to the tall peak. In the center of the green valley erupted billowing pillars of smoke, the results of large fires that had set the world ablaze. Andrew suddenly felt that the spiders were the least of his problems, his eyes landing on the source of the flames; a huge red dragon.

The dragon roared, sending the ponies beside Andrew scrambling for cover in the forest. Andrew stood there, watching the two behemoths duke it out, the four-headed hydra snapping its heads in combined effort at the dragon soaring above it. Spouts of flame erupted from the mouth of the mythological beast, scouring the once green lands below with red and yellow. Andrew spotted a herd of bison near the base of the towering peak at the end of the mountain chain. He was happy to notice the bison galloping northward; he knew that they would be safe from the needless destruction happening below them, but also felt that he would not be seeing them around the area for a very long time. There was a pained roar, this time from the hydra, and Andrew was quick to see what had happened.

The hydra’s scales seemed immune to the fire, but it clearly was not immune to the sharp claws or teeth of the dragon. There was a scuffle between the two as they rolled in the valley, fighting tooth and claw for victory. Andrew could see mud being flung up from the hydra’s form, and with almost comedic accuracy, some of the mud landed directly in the dragon’s eyes. Hissing, the dragon opened his mouth to shoot a gout of flame, but then, as a surprise to every creature within twenty miles, water began to spew from the hydra’s maw.

The dragon was caught off guard by the loud and powerful burst of water. Its eyes were cleared of mud, but water slunk down its own throat. Coughing up a cloud of black smoke, Andrew realized that the hydra must have extinguished the flames that had been rising up. With one last growl, the dragon rose up on its wings and soared over the hydra, heading southeast. As it disappeared behind the cover of a forest, the hydra let out a roar and stomped back towards the ponies and Andrew. Stumbling for cover, Andrew took a spot besides Mint, and as a group, they watched the hydra stomp back over a portion of the forest south of them, no doubt going back to its home in the swamp.

Andrew breathed a sigh of relief and stood. He readied himself to go but realized that there was one last crucial detail of the battle left behind; the valley was still burning. Whipping around on his heels, Andrew stared at the burning valley. There was nothing he could do but watch as the grassland burned. Then, with startling comprehension, Andrew took notice of the fact that the flames could definitely reach the forest he was standing in. Unlike the forest east of the flames, the forest of the berry thicket was not separated from the fire by a river. Just as Andrew was panicking over what to do, Mint tugged on his arm.

He looked to the mare. “Yes?”

“Pegasus,” she whimpered. Andrew blinked at that.

“What about them?”

This time, Mint spoke in her own language. She stomped her hoof. "Cloudmasters!"

Andrew’s eyes widened at that. He had seen the pegasi somehow landing on the clouds, so could that mean they could take the water out from the clouds and use it on the fire?

“But there’s no way we could get to them in time!”

Mint grunted, understanding their plight. She turned to Greeny and Lemon, snorting. Andrew did not understand the last word that she spoke, but he did catch most of the sentence.

"Lend me your fwafwa."

Greeny and Lemon acted simultaneously, bowing low to the ground. The brown mare and orange stallion seemed disgusted at what was happening, but stepped back otherwise. Andrew stood there, confusedly transfixed on the wisps of light that were seeping from the two kneeling unicorns’ horns. The trails drifted from their horns and towards Mint’s own. As the brightness intensified on her own horn, Mint’s eyes squeezed shut, her teeth gnashed together in pain. Andrew reached out to touch her, but before he could, the world dropped out from beneath him.

As the three unicorns sat there, staring at the spot where Andrew had once been standing, the orange stallion bowed his head low, muttering the earth pony tribe’s age old phrase. The brown mare butt her head against her brother’s own, and the two repeated the phrase in unison.

"Earth be with you."

Author's Note

Tried a couple new formatting types for my writing: split up the dialogue so It's a lot more clear of who's talking, and threw more descriptive paragraphs together.

13 - Heights

Heights

Stumbling forward, Andrew proceeded to collapse on his stomach. Blinking tears from his eyes, Andrew ignored the fact that his skin felt like it was on fire, focusing instead on what had just happened. One moment, something strange was going on with the unicorns, and the next, Andrew’s vision had been filled with white. Groaning, he rolled over onto his back and stared up into the cloudless sky. The cool air of the day was refreshing to him for once.

Until a harsh gust of icy air went straight through his hoodie.

Yelping in surprise, Andrew jumped up and shivered, looking around him. Beneath his feet lay coarse, grey earth, looking more akin to stone than actual dirt. Andrew could tell he was quite high up, as looking to his left found himself staring down at a faraway green valley. Nearby, he could hear the sound of a waterfall crashing over an edge, but his hearing was more attuned to the sound of the deafening wind passing him. His ears burnt with the cold, but he wouldn’t have to deal with the cold for much longer. Suddenly screaming, the teenager painfully struggled to tear his hoodie and undershirt off, throwing the garments on the ground when the task was complete. He fell to his knees and shakily looked down.

His skin looked as if it was the molten metal of a foundry, glowing with an intensity that matched the heat it was emitting. Horrifically, the cool air that brushed against his skin caused tufts of steam to rise upwards. Andrew could not stop screaming, for every place steam rose, the pain seemed to only grow worse. Fate eventually let up, for much more later the skin slowly returned to its normal coloration, the lingering steam in the air the only evidence of Andrew’s experience. Collapsing again, Andrew felt nausea creeping upon him. He resisted the urge to vomit, instead forcing himself upwards with the little strength the event had left him with.

He sat up completely and carefully ran his hand over his skin. Andrew still felt hot, but not to the extreme. Thankful that whatever had just occurred was over, Andrew stood. Nearby, his hoodie and plain black tee sat discarded, but Andrew ignored it, instead looking for something he had spotted when initially taking in his surroundings. Teeth clenched in pain, Andrew limped over to his walking stick and took it up. He ran a hand over his throat, cringing at the soreness he felt. The screaming he had done had certainly not helped him in the slightest.

“Why?” he croaked, both hands held tightly on the stick as he went over to the edge of the elevated plateau. He looked down, taking notice of the fact the apple grove seemed to be over a mile beneath him. “How?” He scratched at his neck again; he needed water badly. Whatever had afflicted Andrew had given way to thirst, and taken away his strength. Shuddering at the thoughts of his previous pain, Andrew wandered back over to his hoodie and shirt, slung the two objects over his sweaty shoulders, and looked for a way off the plateau.

The river that caused the large waterfall definitely had to be fresh water, and with how clean the water looked from below, Andrew prayed that the water would be safe to drink; he didn’t know if dysentery would be possible to survive while out in the wilderness. He hung close to a nearby cliff, looking up from time to time at the wintery peak above. It amazed Andrew to be up so high, so close to what essentially was the top of the world. From afar, nothing seemed to compare to the monolith of stone, and it seemed to hold true from up close. A couple of birds circled the peak, and Andrew noticed that there were three distinct species, judging from their colorations and sizes; eagles, falcons, and hawks. It was curious to see the three kinds interacting so calmly, but Andrew attributed it to the strange aspects of the animals in the land.

“I wonder what a bald eagle would say to me.” Andrew’s weak grin was cut short by the burning he felt in his pocket. As Andrew withdrew the amethyst orb, he could clearly see that it had changed; the orb had turned red. Holding the artifact up to the light of the sun, Andrew could see tinges of purple within the orb, swirling around mystically. The object grew stranger with each time he looked at it, and this time, Andrew realized what the orb had been doing the entire time; keeping him safe.

Shaking his head, Andrew placed the burning orb back into his pocket, ignoring the uncomfortable warmth it brought. He continued to hike, and eventually was rewarded with a stream of water that fell over the edge of the mountain. The crashing of the water was at its loudest there, but Andrew did not mind it, nor did the mountain goat on the opposite side of the stream. Waving to the goat, who let out a bleat in reply, Andrew knelt down to drink from the stream. He greedily drank down the cool liquid, taking the time to organize his thoughts.

He was on the mountain across the green plains the hydra and dragon had been fighting on; that was an established fact. How he got there? The unicorns definitely had something to do with it, but he didn’t know how. The fire? Andrew looked up from the water, looking around for a sign of the fire. Sighing, his fears were realized by the thick cloud of smoke that was slowly, but surely, rising off in the distance. It reminded him of why exactly he had been teleported to the mountain; to find the pegasi and stop the fire.

Taking one last handful of water, Andrew thought back to the last sight of the pegasi. He checked his watch, and thinking over the situation, figured that it had been about two hours since he had seen the pegasi flying towards the mountains. With growing hope, Andrew realized one important fact; this had been the mountain the pegasi were nearing earlier. The waterfall proved that, and with clear excitement, Andrew stood best he could with his stick, carefully crossing the slick stones across the stream, and towards a cliff overlooking the northern side of the mountain. As Andrew crossed the threshold, he found himself staring over the largest plains that he had ever seen.

When he had seen the miles of plains west of the berry thicket forest, Andrew thought that it was massive, but staring at the land laid before him made him feel as small as a pea. From his position, he could just barely see the beginnings of an arctic mountain range, smaller than his thumb, but no doubt huge. The plains stretching before him passed through a variety of colors, mostly in a variety of bluish-greens. It was just all so…

“Colorful,” Andrew murmured, rubbing his aching jaw. He looked back, the inky smoke having nearly reached his altitude. The wind seemed to be blowing the clouds to the west, which worried Andrew; it was going to block the sunlight covering the berry thicket plains. Shaking himself, Andrew thought about the importance of finding the pegasi. Returning to the cliff overlooking the breathtaking land, Andrew squinted for a view of any flying creatures. He was unable to see any from the distance, but he did notice a small column of smoke wafting up, miles into the plains. Eyes widening, Andrew realized that it was a contained fire; a campfire. Scrambling backwards, Andrew searched for a way down the mountain; he would find the pegasus herd soon enough, but the fire meant that there was another human around.

Slowing himself, Andrew took a deep breath to reevaluate his situation. The journey would take a while, and if whoever was out there could hike just as fast as Andrew, then he would have to move at double the speed he normally did. That meant preparations; he wasn’t sure if the carrots, turnips, or even water in the new plains were as plentiful as the ones in the berry thicket, but he wouldn’t be wandering out there underprepared. He had berries for the mean time, which was better than nothing, and after filling up his thermos with water from the river, he had enough water to last him at least three days, as long as he rationed it correctly.

The cold mountain air had been blasting Andrew the entire time, and Andrew’s body heat had finally lowered back to its average level. Recognizing that he was at risk of becoming sick, Andrew tucked his shirt back in and slipped his hoodie over his head. His jeans, luckily enough, were enough to block out most of the cold. Andrew ran his sleeve over his nose, frowning at the snot that had accumulated as a result of the cold.

'I need to get out of here.'

Walking around, Andrew searched for a way off the mountain. After a solid fifteen minutes of searching, with the cold bearing down on him endlessly, it seemed that there was no obvious way off the cliff. Places that seemed perfect for climbing down ended in steep dropoffs that Andrew was not going to risk, especially with the injured leg. Groaning, Andrew was about ready to jump from the waterfall and try his chances with the lake.

A faint bleat from Andrew’s right got his attention. The mountain goat from earlier was watching him intently, all the while standing perfectly straight on a nearly vertical cliff face. It let out another bleat and clambered down to him. Blinking at the goat that was a little smaller than one of the adult unicorns, Andrew attempted to understand what it was trying to say. Unfortunately, his animal-speech capabilities had conveniently failed for the goat.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Bleating again, the goat tugged on Andrew’s collar and led him to one of the steep edges that Andrew had inspected earlier. Before the teenager could slip another word out, the goat began to climb down a newly revealed path along the edge of the cliff. Swallowing thickly, Andrew knew what it wanted him to do; follow. Looking downwards, Andrew ignored the vertigo that threatened to overtake him and simply tried to follow the goat.

Luck seemed to be on Andrew’s side as he clambered down the hill. The path was barely large enough for him to fit one foot in front of the other, and his walking stick turned out to be quite useful as leverage. Placing the stick into a crack in the rock wall, Andrew took another break. The goat let out a disappointed bleat and waited for Andrew to follow.

“Yeah, yeah…” Andrew threw away whatever concept he had of annoyance as the goat and him passed down to a lower level on the mountain. The ledges before him seemed impossible to climb, but as the goat nudged him encouragingly in the leg, Andrew felt like it was possible.

With trembling hands, Andrew and the goat descended the mountain.

As the sun rapidly descended towards the horizon, Andrew waved goodbye to the goat, the guide quickly scaling the mountainside. Sighing a breath of relief, Andrew smiled at the mountain he had somehow scaled within a day. Back on Earth, there would have been impossible for him to do such a thing, but nature in the new land was a strange thing, and that cluelessness brought comfort to Andrew.

The teenager found a nearby spot to settle down for the night, reflecting on the idea. He had no idea what was going on in the world, and now he wasn’t sure if he was alone in the land. The ponies were to be protected, and if whoever was out there to the north was a kind soul, he would get them to help him. And if they didn’t want to help him…

“This is my land.” He squeezed his eyes shut, aware of the fact he would never remember the last words of the night. “Mine to keep.”

Leaning up against a pine, Andrew pulled his stick close to him and listened to the roaring fire he had started.

14 - Meats

Meats

Andrew glared up at the sun from his position near the creek. Things had started slowing down for him, in both a mental and physical sense. He had been wandering the strange land for five days, and he was only now realizing how much more land he had left to explore. The new plains to the north only served to inflate Andrew’s fatigue, the human wishing more than ever to be home, warm and fed within his apartment. Lying still for a couple minutes longer, Andrew finally pushed himself upwards. Today, he had supplies to gather, and lots of ground to cover to reach the flying pegasi.

Food was the number one priority for the moment, and Andrew wished more than ever that he had brought his knife with him.

'Plants have protein, right?' He looked around him, frowning at the lack of food. 'Even if there were vegetables around, I would have to eat a lot just to survive a single day.' The stomach cramps had not started yet, but he suspected they would soon. Quickly running a schedule through his mind, Andrew agreed with himself on a plan of action; find meat as soon as possible. Stretching his sore limbs, Andrew grabbed his discarded pack and began searching along the stream for fish.

Andrew knew that he had to tread carefully, for he knew that not too far to the south was the grove of apple trees controlled by the spiders. He guessed that the thinly spaced trees of the forest around him lacked many creatures that he could hunt, and he was not too interested in eating squirrels, no less ones that could understand him. The sound of a quiet dropoff reached Andrew’s ears after a time, and he could only grin as he came across a tiny crevice in the glen. It would be a good place to look for freshwater prawn and fish.

However, it seemed that another creature had the same idea.

The brown grizzly looked up at him, raising its paw from the flowing water to let it hang in the air. Andrew froze, unsure of what to do; his knowledge of how to safely escape a bear encounter was nonexistent. Yet again, Andrew cursed the safety of the forests his friends and him camped in. The bear crawled up the incline, and Andrew took a hesitant step back. The grizzly sped up and was immediately upon Andrew. The teenager could only let out a weak squeak as the bear sniffed at him. As it nosed Andrew’s hoodie pocket, he realized what the bear had found; his berries.

Cautiously, Andrew withdrew the pouch of berries from his pocket. “Y-you want some?” he peeped. The bear let out a low growl and plucked a berry from the offered pile. It let out a grunt of appreciation and took the hood in its mouth, turned around, and walked back over to the stream. Andrew was prepared to run, but his curiosity held him in place. He screamed internally to flee, but he instead planted his walking stick firmly into the ground and held on tightly. Andrew stood stock still and watched the bear.

The mass of muscle gingerly poured the berries out from the bag and onto the ground, then set the bag down off to the side. Andrew stepped closer, watching from the ledge at the top of the small waterfall. The bear held its claw above the water, eyes glancing about. Andrew sighed, preparing to leave, only for the bear to lunge out into the water and grab something. Leaning in closer, Andrew spied the large sunfish the bear had grabbed. This time, Andrew turned to leave, but the bear’s roar brought him back, the brown beast glaring him down. The bear sank its teeth into the fish, and the creature ceased its movements. Dropping the fish into Andrew’s hood, the bear returned to the water.

Andrew watched as the bear repeated the process and dropped another fish into the hood. Seemingly satisfied, the bear picked the makeshift sack up and went over to Andrew. With no little amount of fear, Andrew reached out and took the fish-filled hood back from the bear.

“Thanks?”

The bear gave a grunt and returned to the pile of berries it had poured out. It gave a hum of content as it greedily gobbled down the fruits, and with the bear distracted, Andrew made his escape.

“Great, now my hood smells like fish.” Andrew peered into the bag once he was a decent distance away from the bear. Both of the bright silver fish were quite large, and due to that, the bag was quite heavy. He would have to either store the fish for the long term, or eat them immediately. Andrew didn’t know how to do either of those tasks with what little supplies he had, but he could improvise.

Stepping out of the thin forest, Andrew took a moment to stare at the black sky to the south. The fire still seemed to be raging, and he prayed that the ponies would be fine until he reached the pegasi. The pegasi wouldn’t go over the snowy mountains to the north to graze, would they?

Andrew looked around, recalling that there was a stream to the north. Before he left the forest behind him completely, he knew that there was one thing he could do to prepare for the journey north; gather campfire supplies. He fiddled with his right pocket, and was thankful to find the piece of flint still there. Had he not kept the flint with him, he was sure that he would not find another piece. With his striker stowed away in his pocket once more, Andrew went about gathering dry branches and tinder.

Storing a generous amount of material in his hiking pack, Andrew moved north. The smell of the fish was overpowering now, and Andrew desperately wished that he could wash out his hood at some point. Andrew sighed, disheartened at the fact he wouldn’t be getting a real bath any time soon. For about an hour he walked, silently carrying his load of fish in one hand, whilst supporting himself with his walking stick. Andrew was still thankful for the earth pony who had delivered the stick to him, and he hoped that the ponies were doing alright without him.

'What am I talking about?' he snorted. 'They’ve been surviving without me for years, and I act like they can’t do it without me.'

At the end of the hour, Andrew took notice of the fact that he had walked at least a couple of miles when he looked back to see the mountain he had climbed down from quite a distance away. He turned about and found that the river flowing from east to west was nearby. Walking over, Andrew paused at the stone banks of the wide river. Off in the distance, a plume of smoke began to rise. His eyes flicked to the fish in his hood, and back to the smoke. He had been prepared to clean the fish the best he could and eat, but he thought of whether or not he should find whoever was starting the campfires before he ate.

Shrugging his shoulders, Andrew plopped his backpack and bag of fish on the ground. He would walk later, but for now, he wanted to rest and recuperate. With a goal in mind, Andrew put all of his focus into the task of lighting a campfire, gutting two fish with nothing but stones, and cooking them over a fire with sticks. All in all, Andrew felt that it wasn’t the worst thing that could be happening to him. He threw a look over his shoulder at the forest of spiders, now far in the distance.

'It could be worse.'

Andrew sighed in relief as the gallbladder of the fish popped out and into the stream. Somehow, he had been able to recall some of his knowledge in gutting fish, and was able to avoid puncturing the disgusting organ. The taste would have been ruined, and at this point, Andrew wasn’t starving enough to eat something that tasted like garbage. The fire was crackling next to him, and within a few minutes, Andrew had skewered the first fish on a stick, leaving it to cook over the fire. It definitely wasn’t the best way to cook a fish, but it would serve for now.

He sat down, eyes flicking to the smoke north. Andrew figured that whoever was out there was doing the same as him; settling down to cook something. If he finished up quickly, he could be to their camp by nightfall. At least, he assumed so; it was difficult to tell distance by smoke. Andrew turned back to his own fire and began to spin the fish on a spit. After thirty minutes, Andrew figured that the fish was cooked well enough and pulled it off, stabbing the long stick into the ground nearby to keep it still. Repeating the process with the other fish, Andrew was done cooking within the hour.

Andrew dug into the first fish. The fish was smoky, and it tasted a little undercooked, but it was better than nothing. It went down easily, and with his stomach grumbling for more, Andrew reached out for the second fish. A thunderous flapping caught his attention, and Andrew stood up suddenly, half-expecting to see the dragon flying over. When he saw the flock of pegasi that flew above him, he almost jumped up in joy, glad to have found them.

Except, they weren’t the pegasi he had been expecting to see.

As the ponies landed around him, Andrew could tell that this was a different herd. It was also much bigger, over double the size of the original ten-pegasus herd. Andrew smiled invitingly at the pegasi, careful not to let his teeth show. Opening his mouth to speak, Andrew stumbled off to the side as something hit him hard. Grunting, he stabilized himself with his stick; the blow had knocked him off balance, but he was still standing. He turned back to the pegasi, his emotions quickly flooding with anger and confusion.

To start with, the pegasi were all staring him down, some even pawing at the earth beneath them. Off to the side, a couple of them were flapping their wings in an attempt to extinguish his fire. What angered Andrew most, however, was that a burly black pegasus had pulled his stick of fish from the ground and begun to eat it.

“Hey!” The pegasi watching him whinnied at his yell, advancing with flared nostrils. He took his stick up in two hands and prodded them away from him as they came too close. “That’s my fish!” Suddenly, the herd halted their advances and stepped back. Suspecting something astray, Andrew’s eyes snapped to the burly pegasus. It had finished eating his fish, and was now pushing past most of the pegasi to meet Andrew. Standing as tall as it could, the pegasus reached up to Andrew’s chest. The sheer size of the creature barely intimidated Andrew, so he readied himself for the pegasus.

It gave a low growl.

"This is our land."

“Again?” Andrew made a sound of annoyance. Feeling cocky, the teenager grinned. He remembered what he had said a day or two before, the phrase that had angered Mint. Coughing into a fist, Andrew grinned at the black pegasus.

He simulated the same snort that he once assumed meant ‘yes.’ Still grinning, he finished the phrase in English. “You.”

Fuming, the pegasus let out a loud war cry, lifted up into the air, and zipped down at Andrew. Time seemed to slow for Andrew as the pegasus grew closer and closer.

These ponies had angered Andrew, and this time, he wouldn’t be pulling any punches.

15 - Fights

Fights

Andrew couldn’t roll to save his life, but he definitely had the bulk to stand up to the size. Bracing himself, Andrew placed the walking stick between him and the pegasus. Seeing Andrew’s plan, the pegasus swerved off to the side, clipping its wing along Andrew’s shoulder and making the tall opponent stumble. Andrew recovered quickly from the failed attack, turning on his heel to face the agile creature.

'They’re always so fast.' Andrew frowned, eyes flicking to the rest of the pegasi who were watching. 'At least they have some form of honor.' Ignoring his thoughts as they were shattered by another close pass from the burly black pegasus, Andrew focused more on the combat taking place.

The pegasus had learnt by now that Andrew was fast enough to dodge his attacks, but instead of choosing a new tactic, he simply strengthened his attacks. Speed surged into the wings of the pegasus as it zipped past Andrew back and forth, seemingly hesitant in its sparse attacks. One of the hooves on the pegasus caught Andrew right in the side, but Andrew returned the blow with a whack to the pegasus’ offending wing via stick. Crying out in pain, the burly mass of muscle collapsed to the ground. Andrew prepared himself for a cheer of victory, but was tackled by one of the watching pegasi. He threw the creature off easily enough, their muscle mass nothing compared to their herd leader. All of a sudden, each and every single one of the bystanders began to pile in on Andrew, and it was with a grunt of pain and annoyance that Andrew realized what their plan was; they were going to try and use their numbers to beat him.

'So much for that honor.'

Andrew tried as hard as he could to throw them off of his tail, but could do nothing but wiggle upon the earthen floor of the plain, occasionally swatting at a hoof that strayed to close to his face. His eyes locked onto the burly pegasus, and it was with no small amount of protest that Andrew watched the creature limp over to his bag and pick it up.

Then, the pegasus threw it into the still smoldering fire.

“NO!” Andrew pushed against the walls of flesh around him, but was unable to make any gains. “THAT’S MY STUFF!” Andrew’s face grew hot as he locked eyes with the grinning pegasus.

The pegasus was destroying Andrew’s personal belongings, and he was taking joy in it.

With a roar, Andrew was able to spook most of the pegasi, utilizing their weakened focus to breach their defense. His heart and head were pounding with adrenaline, and he could scarcely recognize the events that were occurring around him. The dazed pegasi behind Andrew collapsed in a pile, but Andrew ignored that. He stomped right past his walking stick, instead going for the fire. The pegasus wilted as he approached, stumbling backwards with a wince; the injured wing was no doubt causing him much pain. Growling, Andrew reached into the fire and plucked out his burning bag. The searing heat was overlooked as Andrew simply turned and tossed the bag into the stream. A satisfying sizzle wafted through the air, and it was all the pegasus could do to not wet himself as Andrew approached. Andrew balled his hands into fists, breathing heavily as he leant down before the black alpha.

“You—” Andrew toppled the pegasus easily enough with a single hand.

“—do not—” He placed a steel toe boot on the pegasus’ chest.

“—show your stupid horse face—” The pressure of Andrew’s boot began to bear down on the wheezing animal’s chest.

“—to me—” Andrew jabbed a thumb back at himself, steadily continuing to apply his boot to the pegasus.

“—ever again.” Stepping backwards and off of the pegasus, Andrew thought about hurting the pegasus in the most masculine way, but instead gave a swift kick to the pegasus’ injured wing.

“Got that?”

The pegasus cried out in pain, causing the herd behind Andrew to go into a whimpering fit. Andrew frowned at the pitiful cries.

'You ponies can be as cute as you want.' He turned around, his stern gaze landing upon the pegasi behind him. 'But it won’t stop me from showing that I can be more than just kind.'

“I want all of you gone,” Andrew whispered, voice weak, but commanding. The pegasi remained shivering in place. Shuddering, Andrew straightened himself. “Take your friend and leave.” Still, they did not move.

“GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!” he shouted, tone full of hatred. The pegasi were immediately on their hooves, and after following Andrew’s pointing finger, they found their leader.

Watching heatedly, Andrew was all too happy to see the pegasi disappear into the clouds, carrying their still moaning leader.

“Good riddance,” Andrew groaned, scrambling for his stick as his adrenaline left him. With his stick secured in his grasp, Andrew crossed over to the banks of the stream, glad that his burnt hands were not hurting as much as he thought they would. The bag had only been in the fire for a minute at most, but Andrew wanted to see the damage for himself. If the bag was destroyed, Andrew prayed that there was at least something to salvage.

Thankfully, it seemed that Andrew wouldn’t have to worry about that. Sighing a breath of relief, Andrew brought his waterproofed hiking bag up from the stream. Though it wasn’t entirely free of water, Andrew was sure the internal compartments were thoroughly dry. Picking his thermos from the bag, the bottle mercifully unheated, he unscrewed the cap and took a long pull from the bottle.

“So much for resting and recuperating,” he grumbled, eyes coasting to the remains of his ruined meal.

By the end of his second hour at camp, Andrew had safely snuffed out his campfire, made sure that all his supplies were with him, and begun to move towards the ongoing pillar of smoke to the north. His earlier estimation seemed to be wrong as the sun began to quickly pick up its once faltering pace, the orb now estimated by Andrew to dip below the horizon within the next two hours. Andrew was still determined to make it to the northern campfire, and so he pushed through the pain in his leg and hiked further north.

Within the first hour, Andrew was able to walk without too much of a hassle. By the second hour, however, the terrain began to slope more and more, causing Andrew to take breaks more frequently. Quickly, his supply of water began to dip lower and lower, just like the sun above him, or rather, below; night had fallen, yet the moon still lingered out of sight. In the pitch black, Andrew had lost the smoke, but he remained transfixed to the invisible path before him, crossing over the slopes without rest. Now he was desperate to find the fire, and if he was unable to by the time the moon rose, he feared that the fatigue that had been creeping into his mind would force him to make camp.

But yet again, Andrew showed that he wasn’t one to quit.

An hour later found the moon rising above the land, and still, Andrew walked. He walked, walked, and walked. The teenager could see nothing before him but the thoughts of who he was to meet across the next hill, or the next, or the next one after that. Eventually, things settled into a blur for Andrew; he was incredibly tired. Shaking his head, Andrew sank his walking stick into the land before him and pulled himself forward. He was tired, but he was not smart enough to stop, his journey further fueled by his determination to reach the encampment. If any of his friends were watching, they would call him stupid, and he would disagree; he knew someone was there, and they were close.

Unbeknownst to Andrew, two more hours had passed in the relative quiet of the plains. Andrew wasn’t sure how far he’d walked at this point, but the hilly terrain had left him and he was now crossing through a moonlit flatland of grass, so he assumed that he had gone quite a distance. Vegetables were scarce in the new zone, but grass was plentiful. Had he been more awake, Andrew would have noted the land seemed perfect for grazing.

Suddenly, Andrew jolted into an awakened state. Before him, scattered in the moonlight, was the same pillar of black smoke he had seen hours prior. Andrew nearly tossed his stick to the side, but managed to hold on to it as he sped up to go over the small hill between him and the campsite. As he crested the landform, he stood stock still in the darkness, staring down at the glowing embers of the campfire, hardly believing.

Looking up, a black pegasus colt whinnied up to Andrew.

Pleasantly surprised, Andrew dumbly slid down the hill, a combination of a tactically-placed rock and his low energy sending him sprawling across the grassy earth. The pegasus colt was immediately by his side, nuzzling him with worried snorts.

“I’m good,” Andrew wheezed as he sat upwards. He smiled woozily and ran a hand through the pony’s mane. “S’all good…”

With his final words spoken, Andrew slumped backwards, out like a light.

Andrew awoke to the all too familiar sounds of ponies bickering. Groaning, he went to sat up, but something pushed against his chest, keeping him pinned to the ground. It wasn’t enough to stop Andrew entirely, as he knew he could easily overpower a pony, but nevertheless, he stayed put and opened his eyes. Shooting a questioning glance to the colt looking down at him in fear, Andrew remained silent and looked to the source of the ongoing arguments.

The grey pegasus mare, who he recalled as the herd leader, was currently talking to a tall, black stallion. Andrew attempted to bring himself upwards, ready to beat the stallion into submission once more, but then he saw that the stallion was different from the one yesterday. Unfortunately, Andrew’s sudden start attracted the attentions of the two, causing the colt holding him down to let out a groan and send a glare to Andrew.

"Bushkeeper," the stallion addressed, stepping over to Andrew. He bowed low as Andrew stood, dusting himself off. The stallion looked up at Andrew, expression hopeful. "You bring bush food?"

“Fire.”

The stallion tilted his head at that. Andrew sighed at his increasingly common mistake and looked around for the smoke. Spotting the ever-increasing smog, Andrew pointed. “It’s been getting bigger.”

"The mountains." The mare stomped up to Andrew and the stallion. "The bushkeeper has no food. We will continue to the mountains." Andrew said nothing as the stallion went aside with the mare again, their conversation untranslated for him. He was glad to be unable to hear the discussion taking place; it would be awfully one-sided for him to get yelled at for most of it. Andrew looked down when the colt began to tug at his leg. It grinned up at him, then pranced over to a small circle of rocks.

A campfire.

As the colt began to toss in a pile of twigs, which Andrew realized had come from his open hiking pack nearby, he realized that the colt had made the campfire.

“How?” The human knelt down, watching in awe as the colt began to strike his hoof against a stone, causing obvious pain to the colt, but emitting sparks in return. Soon enough, a blaze had started in a modest pile of grass tinder, and after dumping it into the pile, the colt looked up to Andrew for approval.

“You only saw it once!” Andrew cried, spreading his arms wide. “How could you have replicated everything so perfectly?” He took the hoof that the colt had used to make sparks and inspected it slowly. “And it should be impossible for you to do this with your hoof, yet, you also managed to figure out how to use your hoof to start a fire!”

The colt simply gave a grin and puffed his chest forward. Andrew smiled wholeheartedly at that and relinquished the hoof back to its owner.

“Don’t get cocky,” he laughed. Ruffling the colt’s mane, Andrew stood with aching muscles and decided right then and there that the colt would become a prodigy for Andrew’s human innovations.

“How about Sparky?” Andrew slapped himself internally for the cheesy name, but still agreed entirely with it; a cocky kid who could make sparks with just hooves and a rock fit the bill for someone named Sparky. Sparky seemed to acknowledge that he had earned some sort of praise for the creation of the fire and simply continued to strut around, chest puffed out. A giggling duo of grown mares nearby put an end to his charade as he settled down in embarrassment.

Andrew turned to the grey mare and the black stallion as they approached again.

“Here we go… again.”

Author's Note

'Pleasant' pegasi. They seem to be rubbing off on Andrew, are they not?

16 - Deserters

Deserters

The stallion approached. "Bushkeeper." he whickered.

“Sup?”

The grey mare eyed Andrew’s raised hand, then looked to the stallion, snorting. "How can you take such a creature seriously?"

“Can you understand me?”

"And it makes too much noise," she grunted.

“Yup.” Andrew sighed, crossing his arms. “One-sided.”

"Fwalfa, the willhorns—"

"—own the ‘bushkeeper.’ Yes, I am aware."

“Own? Excuse me?”

Fwalfa, or the sound Andrew had heard the stallion address the mare by, turned to Andrew with a growl. "Quiet!"

Rolling his eyes, Andrew motioned for her to continue. “Rude,” he sing-songed. Thankfully, the concept of talking behind one’s back on Earth had not carried over into the pony culture. Andrew went ignored.

The stallion frowned as Fwalfa returned him to focus. "It is disrespectful to treat one beyond the herd as such."

"And it is beyond the fwalafa to trust outsiders more than the herd."

The stallion shook his head. "Where have you gone wrong, Fwalfa?"

"What do you mean?" She relaxed a little, ears folding backwards as she continued. "Do you believe I am not doing what is best, Falfa?"

"I believe the fwalafa must change."

With the stallion’s neigh came the outcries of the herd. Sparky and a much smaller filly went off to the side, the remaining six pegasi left to spout words in their pony tongue. Andrew, for his part, took a large step back and tried to listen to what was being spoken. He barely caught anything understandable, but he did acknowledge the fact that the word ‘fwalafa’ was brought up quite often.

'It sounds kind of like wolf pack law.' Andrew rubbed his chin thoughtfully, eyes scanning over the crowd periodically to stop any fights that could break out at any moment. 'And… what’s the name... Falfa? Falfa is trying to change it.' Muttering to himself, Andrew attempted to think of something he could do to help the stallion; if he could get the stallion on his side, then he could possibly convince the herd to fly back to the berry thicket and put out the fire.

“But how…?”

Then, with a literal shock as a reminder, Andrew pulled the amethyst orb from his pocket.

He had completely forgotten about the artifact on his journey from the mountain, and it had definitely changed since the last time he’d seen it. No longer did it contain the red and purple mix to its hue; it had turned a pure white. Without prior knowledge, one would think it to be a pearl, rather than a lump of amethyst. Upon contact with the sunlight, the orb began to shine a red light upon the earth in front of Andrew. Suddenly, every movement in the area paused, all being attracted to the image being spun from what Andrew recognized as fwafwa.

Like the white wisps that Mint, Lemon, and Greeny had conjured to teleport Andrew to the mountain, the red ribbons moved in unpredictable, yet hypnotising ways. Slowly, a pattern began to form, and it was all Andrew could do to stop his hand from shaking as a burning sensation ravaged the palm of his hand. Many of the pegasi took rushed steps back, desperate to get away from the shape that was forming above the grass.

A flame.

It was not a true fire, Andrew realized. It looked more akin to a projection rather than a true physical element, and it was with this insight that Andrew held on. He grit his teeth together, ignoring the now searing heat in his hand. The flame split into two, and gasping, Andrew finally dropped the orb. His role in the process was complete, though he did not truly know it. The orb dropped to a halt in the grass, but its projection continued.

Between the two foot high pillars of astral flame was a moving image of a red valley, covered in flame. Thick plumes of red smoke rose from the land, covering the sky in a thick smog. Andrew was quick to notice that off in the distance within the projection was the mountain he had climbed down from. With a shaky, still cooling hand, Andrew pointed to a forest on the edge.

“The unicorns are here.” Hissing, he sucked on his hand, a tear visible in one eye. “That stings,” he muttered bitterly, blowing on his hand.

"The horns!" Falfa neighed worriedly. "Our kind—"

"They are not our kind," Fwalfa cut off darkly. Looking up, she took notice of the black plumes off in the distance. "Leave them to burn in the Light Land."

Andrew stood, eyes wide. “What the—?”

Falfa was equally surprised. "Fwalfa?"

A decadent muttering began to go through the pegasi at Fwalfa’s statement. Andrew could tell that it was split evenly down the middle; three of the pegasi agreed with leaving the unicorns alone, and the other three were hesitant about ‘leaving them to burn.’ The projection stopped abruptly, and Andrew was quick to snatch the orb back up. Instead of putting it back away, he opted to continue holding it in his left hand. Now was his time to shine in the arguments.

“Pegasi?” All eyes locked on him. He cleared his throat.

“Fwalfa.”

The mare looked to him, eyes wide. "It speaks our tongue?"

"Quiet," Falfa neighed softly.

“The Fwabalfa...” Andrew hesitated, unsure if he was pronouncing or even using the word correctly; he was, after all, a human emulating the sound of an equine. “The Fwabalfa should not be left to burn. I… I can give you food if you return with us. There is much to be found there, and I know how to make the most of meals.”

"Do you understand it?"

"He is the bushkeeper!" The mare turned her surprise back to Falfa. "Treat him as such!"

"Pitiful," she snorted. "You do not understand this creature, yet you choose to follow it over your fwalfa?"

'Your fwalfa?' Andrew pondered. 'It’s a position of authority?'

"The fwalafa must change."

"You are no falfa."

As if the area had just been filled with lava, the temperature immediately rose several levels. Seemingly all of the pegasi were angered by the fwalfa’s words, but the black stallion appeared to have been unaffected.

"No. I am not."

The mare sat there for a moment. Huffing, she bowed her head low, slow and calculating with her movements. "You are dismissed." Straightening herself, she looked a little sad. "Take your followers and leave." Silently, the stallion walked over to the crackling campfire, passing the gathered pegasi. Three mares followed him, leaving behind a stallion and two mares with the fwalfa.

Sparky looked utterly devastated, the poor colt’s eyes flicking between his mother and the falfa. He went to follow the previous falfa, but his mother lunged forward and grabbed him by the nape of his neck.

"Dad!"

'You’ve got to be kidding me.' Andrew stared in disbelief as the stallion sent a brief look of dismay to Sparky.

"Stay." He turned back to Andrew, expression turning to one of neutrality. "Bushkeeper, come."

Andrew looked back at Sparky. “But…”

The stallion saw Andrew’s apprehension. He whinnied again. "He will be fine."

“Fine.” As Andrew walked over to the stallion, he gave Sparky the best smile he could, one that included his teeth for once. “I’ll bring him back, alright?”

The colt said nothing in reply as his mother dropped him, simply opting to stare at Andrew with tears in his eyes. Andrew wished he could run over to the colt and take him away from his mother, but he knew it would be wrong and inappropriate timing. He had to play the waiting game, even if it hurt him; he was used to feeling pain by this point. Andrew picked up his bag and zipped it back up, making sure his thermos was in place.

Andrew gave one look back at the group of six that Sparky was included in, then turned to the tall black stallion beside him.

Andrew nodded. 'Or maybe I’ll bring you back to us.'

With heavy hearts, the group of five left the pegasus herd.

“This is all kinds of messed up.”

"Can you understand it?"

"Him." The black stallion nudged the mare’s side with his muzzle. "We have discussed this."

"Sorry."

"And no, I cannot."

“Are you not sad at all?” Andrew asked, his unburdened arm splayed wide. “You just left your son behind for God’s sake! I don’t know how this works for you ponies, but usually there’s some sort of regret.”

"Bushkeeper," the stallion snorted, turning to Andrew as they walked. "I cannot understand you, but if you are complaining of the trot, surely you have travelled so before? Are you not walking without support?"

“I wasn’t talking about walking, but on that note…” Andrew raised his stick into the air, walked a couple of steps while limping, then resumed using the stick as a crutch. “I hope that proves a point.”

The stallion looked conflicted. He gave a snort, causing the three mares walking near him to stop. "I see." He walked over, inspecting Andrew’s leg carefully. "You are injured? It is hard to tell."

“That’s the jeans for you.” Andrew dusted a bit of dirt off of said articles.

"We could fly it—him."

“I can walk—”

"The bushkeeper can walk."

Sighing, Andrew simply nodded.

"It will take many suns to reach the Fwabalfa by hoof. It would give the Bushkeeper time to heal, and bring us to the Balfawa quickly."

“For the record, I have no idea what that is.”

"Yes," the stallion agreed. "But I cannot carry such a load…"

A white pegasus mare spoke up this time. "You are the falfa; I believe you can."

The black stallion shook his head. "I will try."

"We can help," the other two mares chorused. Andrew couldn’t help but smile at the two simultaneous whinnies, but he still felt uneasy about the whole situation.

The stallion was quite large for a pony, but was still smaller than Andrew. Yet, as Andrew cautiously climbed onto the stallion’s offered back and hooked his arms around the heavily muscled neck of the pegasus, he felt comfortable, as if he belonged. Briefly, he prayed that his walking aid would be safe with the white mare on the journey.

“Alright, now don’t take off until I say—”

The stallion took off.

“—gooo!”

Andrew had expected a careful ascent, but the stallion had taken off at full speed and was currently flapping hard to stay airborne. Andrew could feel the stallion's tense muscles working hard to stay up, but that all disappeared as two mares sidled up below him, propelling the clustered group upwards steadily. Laughing maniacally, Andrew looked off to the side of the stallion’s neck, right down at the disappearing earth below.

“How is this working?!”

A few more minutes passed, and it was at that point that Andrew saw the plan the pegasi had created without human consultation. After reaching a height that reached about the same level as the peak of the tall mountain south, the two mares below the stallion eased themselves away from the cluster, allowing the stallion to keep his wings open wide and glide through the air.

“It’s bad out there,” Andrew managed through the whipping winds that stung at his ears and eyes. “Just look at all that smoke.”

The stallion said nothing in reply, entirely focused on making sure their descent was controlled well.

Carefully, Andrew looked back towards the campsite they had left behind; it was now quite a distance away from them. The smoke had disappeared, but Andrew did take notice of a group of figures flying north, especially a prevalent black figure that lagged behind the rest.

I’ll be back, Andrew promised, returning his attention to the ever-decreasing gap between the burning valley and his pegasus transport. It looked like hellfire had ravaged the lands, and he could see that the fire was now nearing the thicket forest. Andrew swallowed thickly.

“Gods, I hope the ponies are okay.”

Author's Note

I based this language off the language of the pegasi in Robin McKinley's Pegasus, so while the roots are incredibly similar, the language is not exact.

17 - Goals

Goals

Andrew was startled awake by a splash of dirt that hit him in the face. Snorting, he sat up. His back was killing him, but he supposed that was a downside to riding on a pegasus’ back for the better part of a day. Beneath him, the black stallion pranced in place, clearly eager for Andrew to get off.

“My bad.” Patting the antsy stallion on the neck, Andrew slipped off of the pony’s back and onto the ground. The white mare came up to him, Andrew's walking stick held between her teeth. Andrew gave a grateful nod to the mare and took the stick and used it to support himself.

One of the other two pegasi, a midnight colored mare, stepped up to the stallion. "How are you feeling, falfa?"

"Tired," he snorted. Andrew watched with a little sympathy as the stallion performed something akin to a dog stretching, his wings stretching far from his back in alternating patterns. "I will be fine."

“Good to hear.” Andrew hobbled over, still reacquainting himself with the ground. “That was a trip,” he laughed. “Did I really sleep through that?”

The white pegasus mare turned to Andrew, neighing. "Are you ready, bushkeeper?"

Andrew nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”

"He can understand us?" The final pegasus, a grey mare, came up to Andrew, inspecting him intimately.

“Can you please stop poking my butt, inspector?”

The midnight-coated mare looked confused. "You didn’t know? I believe it was quite clear."

The white mare smacked the grey pegasus’ hoof away. "Do not disrespect the fwalfa!"

Andrew scratched his head, then tried the word. “Fwalfa?” Hadn't the pegasi called Sparky's mother that?

"Fwalfa?" the stallion agreed, equally confused. "We have no fwalfa. He is of herd."

"Truly, falfa?"

The stallion nodded.

“Wait, I'm in your herd?”

"The Light Land grows," the blue mare stated worriedly, hopping anxiously in place as she stared off to the south. "It would be best to find the willhorns and hornless before the Light Land consumes them."

“Find what?”

"Yes." The falfa continued the trend of ignoring Andrew. "That is the plan, falawaf." He turned to Andrew. "Bushkeeper?"

“Yeah?”

"Follow us."

Andrew rolled his eyes. “As if I wasn’t going to.” Waiting for a moment, Andrew tossed a glance back towards the plain they had flown over, then went to follow the ponies ahead before they strayed too far.

Andrew had originally wondered why the pegasi had not flown closer to the forest, but as a thick black fog fell over them, it was easy to realize why. The smog sent Andrew into a coughing fit at first, much to the worry of the ponies. He recovered easily enough, using his torn hood, which still smelled of fish, as a makeshift mask. Satisfied that Andrew would not be harmed by moving into the smoke, the ponies continued forward.

For once, Andrew was jealous that he did not share the same height as the ponies. The smoke reached down to a few feet above Andrew’s head, but the pegasi had a much larger gap for smogless air. He could tell they were still having trouble breathing due to their heaving chests, but it seemed to not hinder them. Andrew noted that their frames were much smaller than the unicorns, and he had not spent enough time with the earth ponies to truly find unique patterns.

An hour passed in silence, broken by the occasional cough from Andrew. Finally, as the party crested a green hill, an orange blaze came into their view. The valley below them was charred black, any signs of green gone. The forest further to the east had shared the same fate, burnt to a crisp, but the fate of the remaining forest was saved by the wide, rushing river. It terrified Andrew that he could see the rapids now; just two days prior he had only been able to see a small portion of the river.

Fearing the worst, Andrew hiked a little over to the left to look for the western forest. Andrew breathed a relieved sigh, seeing that the berry forest was untouched. Unfortunately, two days of drifting and growth had allowed the smoke to cover the area, and it was no doubt a pitch black mess.

“This is real bad,” he mumbled through his mask.

The pegasus nodded sadly, completely understanding the message in unintelligible speech. "There may be little we can do."

"We must try," the white mare said, taking a brave step forward.

The midnight mare assumed a similar pose, but the grey mare seemed the most fearful, visibly shaking where she stood. Tying the mask around his lower face the best he could, Andrew walked over to the mare and gently set a hand down on her withers. He began a slow, caressing motion back and forth; from her withers, and down to her side.

“It’s alright,” Andrew cooed. “We’re going to get in there, help them best we can, and we’ll be out in no time.” As the mare leaned into his hand, Andrew felt the shivering drop down to a minimum; she definitely felt better.

"The Great Orb drips lower and lower. We must move." Without waiting for a reply, the stallion went down the slope, following the close treeline of the thicket forest. Hesitantly, the three mares followed.

Andrew took a deep breath, then followed after the group.

The forest was eerily silent, but off in the distance, Andrew and the others could clearly hear the sound of crackling fire and falling trees. The eerie thumping unnerved them all quite thoroughly, but it was with the stallion and Andrew’s presence at the front and back of the group that kept them together. They all knew that they had to keep moving; time was of the essence, and with the thick, black ash blocking the light of the sun, nobody knew how long it would be until true darkness fell.

They knew that when darkness fell, it could very well be the last night that the unicorns and earth ponies spent within the forest and on the plains. The last night for any creature in the area, for that matter.

Andrew hadn’t seen a rainstorm since he had arrived in the… the...

"How long have I been here?" He went over the events of the week as the group kept pace.

Six days. Over a hundred and forty-four hours spent in a land with ponies, hydras, dragons, cockatrices, and spiders. This place was full of life, and this fire threatened to take most of them out. Andrew wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was determined to not let it happen. He had been wandering for almost an entire week, and though he had made a few accomplishments with the native species, he was sure that this was the moment that he had been waiting for. His presence in the land had been long enough for him to accustom himself to the surroundings and meet the natives, timed enough so that he would be ready to work with them to stop this fire. It all fit together so well, but not too well. His limited knowledge of the land and species felt right.

“We can do this,” Andrew said, shattering the silence. “We may be just a few who understand the problems that this fire could cause, but we are also the few who can stop this fire.”

The stallion paused mid stride. "Bushkeeper?"

Andrew himself stopped and continued. “I know it seems real grim right now, and it seems kind of idiotic to attempt talking to you, and even dumber to try and give a speech whilst a fire roars to the west, but I know we all need this.” He crouched down, stick planted firmly in the ground as he locked eyes with each of the four ponies watching him. “You’re all scared.” He chuckled darkly. “I’m scared.” Andrew brought his voice down to a whisper. “But you know what?”

“We ought to be.” Standing, Andrew brought both his height and voice back to normal. “This is a great land, and having it lost so quickly could mean the end of something beautiful. It hasn’t started yet, but I think by my presence here, something has changed in the world. It wants me out, and this fire is probably one of the first events that we’ll—no—you’ll face in order to keep the world in harmony.” Andrew turned around, peering through the path in the trees to stare right into the heart of the approaching blaze on the grasslands. “I know why I’m here now.” Cautiously, Andrew pulled the orb out from his pocket. As soon as it was free, ribbons of red within began to bubble along the white interior.

“I don’t know what this thing is—” the ponies eyed Andrew and the orb’s suddenly glowing form in awe as he faced them again “—but we’re going to use it to make sure you will all be able to fight this kind of disaster in the near future.” Andrew let go of the orb, watching with a toothless, serene smile, as it began to hover before him. With a crack of thunder, the red within the orb shot to the tip of Andrew’s walking stick and sat there within a rumbling orb. The amethyst artifact shuddered in the air as white filled in the purple left behind in the red’s wake.

Bringing his lips close to the orb, Andrew whispered an order in the tongue of the ponies. The human’s emulated sounds sent a spike of excitement down the spines of each pony.

"Take me to our herd."

Taking off at a steady pace, the orb began to float on a new path through the trees. A blue aura that had gone unnoticed around Andrew’s eyes shot to the orb still atop the staff, causing the red light to mix into a shimmering purple. Shaking his head, Andrew held his empty hand up to his temple.

“Urgh…” Spitting a glob of saliva to the ground beside him, Andrew shook his head hard. “I have no idea what just happened…” He looked to the orb topping his staff and stared. “...but I have a feeling that things are about to change around here.”

Andrew’s eyes widened. “The light!” The human took off running, much to the surprise of the ponies. Andrew himself was surprised, but focused more onto the orb of light that he quickly caught up to. Something had happened to him halfway through his speech; his mind felt like a muddled mess, and the new situation that had been revealed to him felt even messier. The ponies called out from behind him as they struggled to catch up without their wings, but Andrew didn’t dare to slow down. He had to keep up with the orb, even if he didn’t know what it was doing, or how it had even got there.

"Bushkeeper?" The black stallion was caught halfway between panting and yelling. "Where do you lead us?"

“I have no idea,” Andrew replied easily, despite his speed. His eyes flicked between the two glowing orbs, all the while ducking and weaving between branches and tree trunks. “But I think we’re going somewhere important.” The ponies behind him only heard the strange, calm tone he spoke in, despite the circumstances. It worried Andrew that he was being so calm about everything, but with the sudden lack of fatigue and any previous thoughts, he felt more focused than he ever had been during his stay in the pony land. He attempted to place all efforts of focus into understanding what had just happened to him, but he found his mind occupied by one simple command, one that he somehow remembered as being given by himself, to himself; follow the orb.

And so Andrew ran.

18 - Prophecies

Prophecies

The orb came to a halt before a birch glade. Andrew immediately recognized the site as the same area the berry bushes were near. Yanking the sizzling orb from the air, Andrew tucked it into his pocket and walked west, his mental map of the glade’s part of the forest fledged out far enough for him to walk on his own. Thankfully, the still white orb ceased to generate heat, allowing Andrew to relax a little. The sounds of the galloping pegasi behind Andrew lowered to a trot as they caught up to the fast-paced human.

Pushing through a familiar patch of foliage, Andrew spotted a wall of blueberries. The pegasi came up beside him as he strode urgently. All of the ponies knew exactly what Andrew had found, but remained silent and still as Andrew parted the brush. He stepped into the clearing, fearing the worst.

Mint’s eyes flicked to the shuddering bush. Snorting, she stood before the rest of the herd as they took cover behind her. Horn at the ready, Mint herself anxiously pawed at the ground. With a grunt, Andrew emerged from the thicket, sending berries to the ground around him. Spying the unicorns ahead, Andrew stuck his orb-tipped branch into the ground and hobbled forward. He held his arms out.

“Guess who’s back?”

Mint bounded towards Andrew immediately, stopping to stand on her hind legs in order to hug him in the proper way. Andrew held his position with a grunt, recovering quickly to return the gesture.

“Andrew!” The mare nuzzled into his hoodie, whickering. ”I apologize!”

“S’all good.” The two split apart, and Andrew took the period to introduce his companions. “These are your pegasi.” Mint beamed at the ponies standing behind Andrew.

”Four?” Lemon questioned as he stepped forward from the crowd of unicorns, a hint of annoyance in his features. ”Four cloudmasters?” Greeny pushed Lemon aside once the stallion was finished.

Mint looked a little concerned as she walked around Andrew to the pegasi. ”Where is your herd, cloudmaster?”

”North.” The black stallion stepped forward, head hung low. ”I could not convince all of them to join us.”

”Cowards!” Lemon hissed.

“Hey!” Everyone in the clearing looked to Andrew as he tilted his stick towards Lemon. “Shut your trap, Lemon.” He settled back down, snorting. “Sorry about that, continue.” Andrew pretended that he did not hear Lemon’s following pony curse.

The black stallion gave a grateful nod to Andrew, then gave a glance about the clearing. ”Where are the hornless?” Andrew took a look around as well, noting that the only earth ponies present were the four foals, the small children shivering together in a sad huddle.

”Confronting Light Land.” This time, Greeny spoke, taking a spot beside Mint. ”The Great Orb has passed once in their combat.” He paused. ”Through the black, it is hard to tell.”

”We fear that they will hold no longer,” Mint added.

“Where are they?”

”Southeast.” Mint shook her head then looked to Andrew, a little awestruck. ”Bush—” She paused mid-snort. “Bushkeeper?”

Andrew shrugged, pointing to the orb hovering above his stick with a finger. “Probably something to do with this.”

Mint stepped forward, leaning her head up to inspect the ball of light. ”What is this fwafwa?”

”It appeared when the bushkeeper was speaking to us.” The black pegasus tilted his head. ”You can understand the bushkeeper?”

”Partly.” Humming, Mint stretched upwards with a hoof. Andrew lowered the stick for her, and as the mare made contact with the orb, a purple ribbon began to spool out from the orb and around her horn. Shuddering, Mint pulled back, severing the connection.

”Strange,” Greeny noted. ”How do you feel, fwalfa?”

Mint was silent.

“Mint?” Andrew began to worry as the mare fell back on her haunches, staring blankly.

”The sky gods are speaking to the fwalfa.”

Andrew turned to Lemon slowly. “What?”

The stallion came up to Mint, eyes flicking between the orb and her eyes. ”The fwalfa stands in the Fabal.” Lemon looked up to Andrew, expression stern. ”It is best not to disturb the fwalfa and sky gods during this connection.”

”How long will it take?” Greeny asked, worriedly looking over his mate.

”I do not know.”

Andrew bit his lip, conflicted. “We need to check on the hornless ponies.” The ponies were watching him, but Andrew knew that they could not understand him. Without waiting for a reply, Andrew took his branch in two hands and began drawing in the dirt. Within a minute, a crudely drawn pony sat before the collected parties.

The midnight pegasus leant forward, eyes wide in surprise. ”What is this?”

”A hornless.” Greeny tapped near the drawn earth. ”I have carved this form before.”

”Carved?” the white pegasus mare questioned.

Nodding, Greeny went over to Andrew’s log bed, pulled a spider’s tooth from the log, then came back over. ”This—” he dropped the ivory ”—is our fwalafa.”

The black pegasus’ eyes widened as they glazed over the bone. A fwalafa carved? He shook his head, mouth hanging open slightly. I have never…

Curious, Andrew picked up the tooth without asking. He turned over the tooth; it had been carved further by Greeny during Andrew’s two days away. “Why were you carv… carv…” Andrew pulled back, jaw held low.

“Greeny…?” Andrew planted his stick in the dirt again and dropped the tooth to the ground. He put a finger to one part of the carving, specifically that of a hovering orb in the middle of a herd of unicorns. “What is that?”

”The Great Orb?” the green stallion queried. ”What of it?” Slowly, his eyes drifted to the carved orb. His eyes went wide. ”It’s—”

“—the amethyst,” Andrew finished, not even bothering to emulate the word’s bray. “How did you know what to carve before you ever saw it?”

The green stallion shuddered. ”I don’t understand, why is fwafwa in our presence?”

Andrew stood as Lemon to spoke up.

”We need to use it.” Lemon’s eyes were bright with understanding. ”Clearly, the sky gods have found it necessary to give us fwafwa. We must use it to stop the spread of the Light Land!”

”It is idiotic to presume such a notion,” the black pegasus snorted. ”Do you know what power the sky gods may have granted us with?” He nosed Andrew’s side roughly. ”The sky gods have put the fwafwa of the Fabal in the bushkeeper’s hooves.”

Andrew tugged at his collar, frowning down at the two ponies, clearly about to begin bickering. ”This is getting intense.”

”He is no willhorn!” He struck his hoof out towards the bone. ”Our fwalafa tells that the willhorn are to wield the power of the fwafwa, not an outsider. One of us are to use it; it is rightfully ours.” A thick murmuring began to run through the herd of unicorns and the three pegasus mares by the end of Lemon’s statement.

“Rude,” Andrew muttered.

The black stallion looked angry, pulling himself upwards. ”A willhorn wrote your fwalafa!” Greeny crouched down as a hoof was pointed in his direction.

”As it should be!” Lemon retorted. "It is not the business of a herd to interfere with another’s fwalafa, nor should an outsider take control! Outsiders are not to use fwafwa, especially god-given fwafwa!”

”Fawa!” the black pegasus growled, strutting forward menacingly. ”It belongs to the bushkeeper. He is no simple outsider; his fwafwa is his to keep!”

”It belongs to the sky gods!” Lemon was no match for the stallion’s height, but he put up a courageous act as the two met muzzle-to-muzzle. ”The fwafwa was created by the sky gods; it belongs to the willhorns!”

“Enough!” Andrew slammed his stick hard into the ground next to the earth pony drawing. He pointed at the drawing, silently staring back at the two herds.

”The hornless,” Greeny peeped out in a quiet whinny. ”Perhaps the bushkeeper wishes for us to take him to them?”

Andrew nodded eagerly, thankful that at least someone was thinking rationally.

”Our argument is not—” A swift whack to Lemon’s chest with a stick sent the stallion keeling. ”Fabfwalfawa,” he wheezed after a solid ten seconds.

“No more,” Andrew growled. “I don’t give two cents to caring about who owns the fwafwa, I just know that we still need to check on those hornless ponies and how they’re dealing with the fire.” He looked over the obedient crowd. “I don’t care about who’s against me, I care about who’s going with me.”

The clearing was silent, save for the occasional groan from the still-downed stallion. Eventually, Greeny spoke up.

”The hornless are southeast,” he repeated. ”I will take you.”

Andrew nodded. "Please."

”Good.” Greeny looked around, then frowned at the unicorns standing behind him. ”Gather your strength. I will alert the herd if we require assistance. Bring my mate to us when she awakes.” Ruffling himself, Greeny looked to Andrew and nodded, snorting once. ”We move now, bushkeeper.”

“Good.” With one last glance of dissapointment directed towards Lemon, Andrew and the pegasi, led by Greeny, began to move southeast through the woods.

“You know Greeny, I’m impressed.” The stallion’s ears flicked in Andrew’s direction, but he did not give any other external reply. “I’m impressed that you didn’t just lay Lemon out when he first started. You sure took control of the situation in the end there.”

“And you… uh… you mind if I call you black one? I’ll just call you Blackie for now. Kinda weird, but whatever. Blackie, Lemon should’ve been dust by now.” The group was quiet for another short period. “I’m impressed that you have that much restraint over your anger. Granted, it did start slipping there, but you didn’t smack him the chest like I did, did you?”

The white pegasus looked back at Andrew as she walked. The bushkeeper knows we cannot hear what he says, correct?

”Yes,” Blackie and Greeny replied simultaneously.

”That was kind of cute,” the midnight colored mare giggled. Greeny blushed at the compliment, but Blackie simply snorted.

”Do not call me cute.”

”Yes, falfa.”

Carrying on in silence, Andrew took the time to inspect the orb on his stick. The purple ball spun silently, casting a strange glow on Andrew’s shoulder and the top of the stick. This was fwafwa, and it was obviously important to the unicorns. Lemon had said something about ‘wielding’ the fwafwa, and Andrew was curious as to whether or not he could use it himself. He felt like he could, seeing as how he was able to handle the curious artifact residing in his pocket.

What had happened to Mint on contact with the fwafwa? She had fallen into some sort of trance, and Lemon had said something about her communicating with the sky gods. With abrupt realization, Andrew noticed something very important between certain events that had occurred and the sky gods. Could it be possible that his hiking pack, his thermos, the magical amethyst orb, and ability to understand the ponies, been given to him by the mysterious sky gods? Looking back the way that his party had come, Andrew suddenly felt very small in the world.

”I hear their hooves,” Blackie noted, ears twitching. Andrew strained forward, eager to hear the same sound that the stallion had noticed, but sagged, unable to hear anything but the distant crackle of flame. ”We’re getting closer.”

True to his word, not a minute later, the sounds of thumps and the rumbling earth came into perception. Andrew teetered in place for a time during one good rumble, then continued forward. Andrew reached for his thermos and took a sip, right as they pushed out of the foliage and out into the open world. He nearly choked on his drink as the true sight of the fire came into view.

Not too far off from them, Andrew could see the herd of earth ponies tearing into the grass. He could see the earth turning brown beneath them, and was amazed to see that a large area of the grassland had been overturned of its grass to reveal the soil below. They were dragging the grass off into a nearby stream, presumably to keep the flammable materials from kindling. What terrified Andrew about the scene, however, was the proximity of the flames.

Not a few miles away were the flames of the burning east woods, slowly but surely encroaching upon the gathered earth ponies.

Andrew swallowed thickly, unsure of whether or not he was prepared to face the oncoming storm of fire. Surprisingly enough, Greeny took notice of his fear and sidled up beside him, cooing softly.

“I appreciate it, Greeny.” His eyes went back to the burning woods. “But I have no idea how we’re going to do this.”

19 - Gifts

Gifts

”Split!” Blackie ordered. The harsh whinny cut through the sound of the flames and stomping earth ponies ahead. On command, the three mares took off, sending Andrew and Greeny reeling back from the pegasi’s quick takeoff. Blackie turned to Andrew, gave a curt nod, then followed after the distantly growing flock.

Andrew stood frozen. “Holy cow.”

”Incredible,” Greeny agreed, separating himself from Andrew’s side. ”You have chosen well, bushkeeper.”

Andrew shook his head. He slapped Greeny on the shoulder and pointed the soaring pegasi out. “No, I mean… look how fast they’re going.” The pegasi went about the thick smoke above, sending bucks left and right into the black smog, bursting the ashen clouds in something akin to an explosion of powder. “I think I understand why you call them cloudmasters now.”

”Bushkeeper!” A worried neigh diverted the duo’s attention to the approaching herd leader of the earth ponies. The brown mare came up urgently, only just able to resist yanking Andrew forward to rush him into helping the exhausted, yet hard-working herd. You come!

“I do. Now, what do you need me to do?”

”Help us.”

Andrew blinked. ”How am I supposed to do that?” He glared at the mysterious orb on his stick, still hovering quietly. ”What are your secrets?”

”Bushkeeper?” Greeny nudged his side. Andrew looked down into the determined stallion’s face. ”I will help you use the fwafwa.” The mare standing before them grimaced at the use of the word, but recovered before the stallion or Andrew could notice.

“What do I do, Greeny?” Andrew tapped the stick into the ground with emphasis. “I honestly have no clue what I’m supposed to do with it.”

Greeny was hesitant. He went to reach out to the orb, but pulled back at the last second. He looked up at Andrew and shook his head. ”It is not my place.”

“Crap,” Andrew muttered. “Crappity crap crap.” Staring up at the blaze, Andrew rolled his shoulders. Taking a concentrative breath, he relaxed his muscles. “Alright, we’ll just see where this goes.” Eyes flicking to the purple orb, Andrew began to move his free right hand up to touch it. As he inched closer and closer, his hand began to shake, his thoughts lingering further and further towards hesitation. Sucking in his gut, Andrew finally laid his hand on the orb.

Immediately, heat surged into his hand. No, it did not cover his skin as it had before, this time, Andrew felt it in his blood. His eyes went wide, mouth cracked open in a silent scream. Greeny held onto him, preventing the teenager from crumpling to the ground.

”Hold it!” Greeny cried. ”You have never used fwafwa. You must hold it!”

Tears tore at the edge of Andrew’s vision as the heat began to rapidly extend from his hand and up his arm. Spotting Greeny’s collapsing strength, the brown mare came forward and helped Andrew stay upwards. Andrew recognized Greeny’s words, and instead of pulling away as he had been naturally attempting to do, he forcefully wrapped his hand around the orb.

The heat immediately went up his spine and into his head.

Now screaming in true pain, Andrew lost complete control of his body. The two ponies struggled to keep him standing, and it was not until a large orange stallion, vaguely familiar to Andrew’s dwindling thoughts, arrived, helping Andrew up into a standing position once again. The stick dropped out from Andrew’s left hand, but the orb remained hovering ahead of him. Scalding heat erupted from Andrew’s pocket, and on instinct, his newly freed hand shot out to the pocketed orb and yanked it out. It cooled suddenly, causing steam to rise up into the already dense air.

The three ponies were yelling something to Andrew as he stood there shaking, a physical white orb in one hand, and a blazing ball of purple light in the other. He could not discern their words, their language having dropped back into the all too unintelligible sounds of ponies. However, as Andrew’s blurry vision focused enough to take in his shuddering hand on the purple orb, a word cut through; it was not from Greeny, nor the two earth ponies. It was a hazily memorable voice, yet one that he could not recall ever hearing.

”One.” The voice was thunder to Andrew’s ears, but the ponies seemed not to notice. ”Make one whole.”

Through the firestorm raging through his mind, his arm, and his hand, Andrew felt the phrase click in place somewhere. In one quick motion, the white orb of amethyst in his left hand slammed into the purple mist contained by his right hand. There, he held the two orbs within each other. Shuddering, Andrew felt his scream die down, the heat disappearing from his body slowly. As the last of the heat fell into the orb, Andrew felt ready to fall over completely, but the ponies held him up. His hands were a mess of shaky movements as he tried to step back, the white orb dropping from his hands and onto the ground.

No longer did the artifact hold the shine of amethyst crystal; it had turned into a white ball of marble. The purple mist had disappeared as well, but from the corner of Andrew’s still recovering vision, it had disappeared from the air and coalesced at the tip of Andrew’s walking stick again. He ignored the worried brays of the ponies beside and behind him, simply bending over to pick up the stick. As he held it up to support himself, Andrew could feel something within the stick, bubbling just beneath the surface. In severe contrast to the heat he had felt prior, a cool sensation crossed over his fingers.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Andrew ran his fingers over the stick with both hands, a smile taking shape on his face.

Greeny stood in front of Andrew, watching the bushkeeper’s hands travel along the stick. He was hesitant to speak, clueless as to what had just occurred between Andrew and the fwafwa. Greeny wished to speak out and ask how the bushkeeper felt, but something about the sudden calm of Andrew’s attitude felt private.

Breathing slowly, Greeny looked to the herd of earth ponies, still working hard to clear the land of possible tinder. He knew it wouldn’t work; the embers would set the berry forest alight soon enough. He looked back at Andrew, the teenager still lost in the faintly glowing stick. Time was of the essence, and despite his best wishes, Greeny knew that it was time to see if the bushkeeper could truly help the herds stomp out the Light Land’s frolicking borders.

”Bushkeeper?”

Andrew cracked his eyes open carefully. Back in control of his senses, Andrew looked down at the stick in his hands.

”Bushkeeper?”

Andrew looked up, allowing his left hand to take control of the stick once again. “Greeny?”

The stallion looked at the stick, then to Andrew. ”How do you feel?”

Andrew thought it over for a moment. “Great.” He looked over the mare and stallions around him, smile still occupying his features. “Thank you.”

”Can you stop the Light Land, bushkeeper?” Andrew looked from the stick to the east, the flames much closer now.

He shook his head, turning his gaze down. “No.” Andrew kicked the marble down the hill, watching it roll.

”How can you be so careless?” the brown mare growled, stomping right up to Andrew’s peaceful smile. ”You sit here, watching the Great Green burn—”

“—knowing that I can do nothing to stop it? Yes.” The mare shook her head.

”You are a coward.”

Andrew nodded his head, leaning around the mare to watch the marble roll. “Maybe, maybe.”

Greeny looked hopeful. ”Bushkeeper, surely you must be able to do something?”

“I really can’t.” Andrew paused, then gently pushed the mare away from him. He looked to Greeny, smile faltering. “But you can.”

”I do not—”

“Bring them.” The stick flashed purple with each syllable Andrew spoke. “Bring your herd.”

Greeny froze at the sound of Andrew’s true voice.

“Greeny,” Andrew flashed again with his stick. “Bring our herd.”

With an automatic bow, Greeny pointed his horn to the black clouds above. A faint green aura encompassed his horn, growing with ever brightening intensity. Andrew stared at him as the two earth ponies looked away from the blinding light. Grunting, Greeny let out a roar, sending a piercing beam of white light upwards with a shockwave and bang. The clouds parted, revealing the blue sky beyond the layers. It stayed like that as Greeny came back, huffing and puffing from the draining act.

“Good.” The stick did not flash as Andrew spoke.

“I heard some things, Greeny.” Greeny looked up at Andrew, recognizing the calling from Andrew’s previously understandable words. “I think... I think I know what your sky gods are trying to do.” He shook his head. “I don’t really understand what’s going on right now; my mind is more or less merged with another, but I don’t know who they are. They aren’t a god, that’s for sure.” Andrew hobbled forward to place his hand on Greeny’s head. “I don’t even think anybody’s in here with me.”

“But still, I don’t know what thoughts are my own. I can’t think of anything for myself at this point. Everytime I try to focus for myself, I’ve been completely diverted into processing something. It’s really weird for me, Greeny.” Andrew stepped back. “Something’s using my mind for something, and all I can do is move around. I don’t think I will be like this for long, but something in here—” Andrew tapped his temple “—tells me that by the time this is all over, we can move forward.”

Coughing into a hand, Andrew looked back to the Berry Forest. “All these possibilities keep flashing through my mind, but I can’t remember what any of them were meant to show, or at least not completely. The unicorns could be here five seconds from now, or not show up at all. Something may have happened to them; the hydra is hurting them all, or they simply up and abandon us.” Sucking in a breath, Andrew looked back to Greeny. “I don’t even remember what I just said. The process is telling me every possibility from the past, the current, and the future. Everything independent of the process keeps getting lost. I’m stuck here in the lost part, Greeny.”

Suddenly, Andrew gave a large, body-encompassing twitch. He leant his stick down, putting the purple orb between him and Greeny. The staff flashed as Andrew spoke. “It is done. The fwafwa is for the herd to use.”

Silently, and with a hoof full of apprehension, Greeny reached up and touched the orb. A snake of purple uncoiled itself from the edge of the orb, trailing along Greeny’s hoof and into the tip of his horn. Greeny’s eyes widened, stumbling backwards as Andrew straightened and turned around.

“Do you hear that?” Surely enough, the sound of galloping hooves cut through the darkened hilltop. “The herd arrives.”

Mint, followed closely by Lemon, came bounding out from the trees. She slid to a halt before Andrew, the teenager opting to watch four unicorns from the herd follow.

“Bushkeeper.”

“Herd leader.” Mint flinched at that.

”The sky gods remain?”

Andrew shook his head, stick flashing as he spoke. “No. This is their doing, but it is not them.”

”Falfa?” Lemon went up to Greeny. ”We saw the sign; what is your need?”

Greeny stared blankly at Lemon. ”The fwafwa.”

Andrew clutched his head with his right hand, growling. “Oh god, oh god…”

“Andrew?”

“You have to—” Andrew’s eyes went wide “—you have to help me.”

”What’s happening to the bushkeeper?” a curious and worried unicorn asked from the assembled herd.

”The sky gods have permitted the use of the fwafwa!” Lemon leant back at Greeny’s sudden cry.

”What are you on about, falfa?”

“The fwafwa.” Andrew’s eyes remained wide as he took the rapidly flashing stick up into two hands. “You’ve got to take it!” His hands wrapped around the stick tightly as he began to hyperventilate. “Now now now now—”

Before anyone could move, the purple orb of mist gave off a powerful explosion. The purple mist sprayed everywhere, reforming itselves into lines as they surged towards the unicorns. Each unicorn fell still as the fwafwa sank into their horns. Andrew dropped the now dim stick, eyes wide as his chest heaved.

“Free free free,” Andrew repeated. He shook his head clear of the repeating phrase and looked around. “Where… what…” His eyes landed on the unicorns staring at him. The two earth ponies watched with Andrew as the unicorns sank low to the ground, bowing. Mint stood up, separating herself from the obedient herd. Her eyes were surrounded by the faint glow of purple, the same exact coloration as the previously existent purple mist.

”Hello, bushkeeper.”

New, yet obviously past events, made themselves at home in Andrew’s memories. Andrew’s brain ground to a halt as the voice occupying Mint’s body and mouth came into recognition. Stepping backwards fearfully, Andrew realized who the voice belonged to.

It was the strange voice of a spider from a dream he had never remembered until now.

”It’s time to talk about my gifts.”

20 - Gods

Gods

”I do believe it is best to start off with an apology.”

Andrew stared.

”You see—” Mint shook herself and stepped out of the crowd ”—I had planned for us to meet under better circumstances. But as it stands—” she motioned a hoof out towards the flames and earth ponies, still struggling to douse all of the flammable grass ”—there is not much time.”

“I… I see.” Andrew scratched his head as he looked back to Mint. “I actually need to do something about that. I think…”

”Again, I apologize. It may be difficult for you to remember some things—”

“Why?”

The mare blinked slowly. ”Pardon?”

“Sorry, but I mean, there’s like this fog in my brain, and it’s sort of hard to remember anything past a minute or so ago.”

Mint took on an apologetic look. ”That would be my doing.”

“Who are you, anyway?” A smile grew on Mint’s muzzle at Andrew’s question.

”Here, I have no one name, but you may call me...” The mare trailed off, no doubt thinking over the best name to give to Andrew. “Harmony.” The voice that came from Mint’s mouth was not the same tone that the mare usually spoke in.

“Harmony… huh.”

”Is something the matter?”

“No, no. It’s just... I feel like I’ve heard your voice before.”

”You have.”

“Really? So I’m not crazy then?”

”Yes, you are not.” Harmony’s smile faded as she continued. ”And as much as I would like to continue our pleasantries, there are some things we must discuss.”

“Will it be confusing? Because if it is, then I don’t know if I’ll be able to comprehend anything going on.”

”Perhaps. It would be less confusing if you refrained from speaking unless asked.” Her statement was less of a suggestion and more of a command. Andrew took the hint.

“Yes ma'am,” Andrew automatically replied.

”Very well.” Harmony looked between the two earth ponies standing beside Andrew and smiled graciously. ”Please check on the willhorns while I speak with the bushkeeper.” With two nods, the ponies stiffly walked over to the still bowing unicorns. Harmony’s horn lit up in purple, no longer emitting the same blue as Andrew had last seen Mint use. She plucked Andrew’s walking stick from his hand with her levitation and inspected it.

”I will make this clear, unless I have explicitly stated so, not everything within your grasp is a gift of ours, such as this staff; there may be a connection between our gifts and the gifts of the living, but they are not always for the same goal. There will be many more gifts from the land’s natives, but you must remember this; there is a difference between the gifts of Fabal and the gifts of the kind.” She planted the stick back in Andrew’s hand and calmly levitated his thermos out from his pack. Andrew remained silent as she swished the water inside with a spin of the bottle. ”This is one of my gifts, and it is one of the few of your world that you shall be praised with. Your strange bag shares this same fate.”

”For our two gifts, the true purpose of the star spider’s tooth will come to fruition in time. It is best not to tell you of the future; clairvoyance does not come without its dangers, and there is enough for this land to deal with in its coming days.”

Andrew nodded, arms crossed. “Understandable. But what about the amethyst?”

”Yes…” Harmony licked her lips. ”The amethyst that you discovered was placed there by me. It acts as a controller of sorts for our fwafwa, and it has allowed me to possess the body of this willhorn, as well as strengthen the fwafwa of the willhorn herd.”

”I hope you do not mind—” she placed the thermos back in its proper place ”—but I took the liberty of looking through your memories.” Andrew opened his mouth to refute his position on the matter, but Harmony continued. ”I did not pry any further than I needed to.”

Andrew couldn’t help but fire out a question anyway. “Which was?” Harmony, however, did not seem annoyed.

”I only went as far as to find your true intentions. You understand the basic concepts of why you are here, but not to their complete extent; I am here to remedy this. Make no mistake, your role in these lands is admirable, but lest the balance of this world be tipped, you may not help these creatures more than needed. If you wish to tip the balance, I will know immediately. However, from your memories I can tell that this would not be the path you would take.”

”To help you with your mission, I have spoken with the others on how best to help you without disturbing this balance. You no doubt have no recollection of where you retrieved our amethyst and keratin gifts, do you?”

Andrew mulled the thought over for a bit. “No… at least, not really that well.”

”Then allow me to restore it to you.”

“Alright.” Andrew watched as Harmony leant in, horn alight once more. A small spool of purple split off from the mist near her eyes and sank into Andrew’s own. Andrew sat there for a moment, attempting to blink out a particle that had appeared in his eye.

”Do you remember now?”

His response was instantaneous. “There was a tree. It gave me the orb, and it hurt.” Andrew winced, remembering the pain that had been inflicted upon him early on in the same week. “A lot.”

Harmony nodded sadly. I fear that the events preceding our conversation are far from the last of the pain that will be inflicted upon you. I am sorry, bushkeeper, but there is nothing I may do to stop the artifacts we give you from bringing pain.

“Why does it do that anyway?” Harmony walked past him to the edge of the hill, and Andrew followed questioningly. “Harmony?’

”For the same reason this Light Land exists.” Harmony turned around, face grim. ”Balance.”

“Balance?”

”Yes.” Harmony went back to looking over the earth ponies and the flames. ”For many millennia, the species of these lands have lived in peace. With your fateful arrival, the balance has been upset, and the world seeks to repair it. Thousands of years of peace must be followed by thousands of years of conflict, but we of the Fabal have forced it to span a single century instead.” She turned around, eyes shimmering amongst the orange and black sky. ”Nature and its creatures will be against you, but for each great burning and claw against you, there will be a great rain and hoof there to fight back.”

”I am one of the dwellers of the Fabal, and you provide us with the connection required between the Fabal and the land. To this extent, I have provided you with these few gifts to keep you in pursuit of the balance of the world. The willhorn I speak through now knows of her place in all of this, but it will take some time for her to recognize its meaning entirely. You have displaced the balance, and the world seeks to fight back, but through the guidance of us, and the assistance of the equine disciples, you will persevere.”

”Already now, you know that the world is against you. The pain of the fwafwa’s carrier, your amethyst artifact—” she looked down to the marble ball at the foot of the hill ”—is an attempt to shatter your integrity. You have proven that you can lead these ponies, the harbingers of a new era of peace, and shown that you will go to the ends of the world in order to keep them safe. So long as your mind is sane, and your heart kept pure, they will be there to help you fight this war on peace.”

”All we ask is that you play your role as a bushkeeper.” Harmony stepped closer to him. ”Do you accept this charge, bushkeeper?”

Andrew, naturally, was hesitant. He remembered his first few days in the land, recalling how this had been a hiking trip gone astray, turned into a single, short adventure, that would be over in no time. From what Harmony had just told him, it could be a year until he left. Andrew wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.

“Andrew.” Harmony gave him a sad smile. ”I shall present a choice for you, Andrew. You may choose to stay here and help this land grow to its full potential, or you may return to your homeland and live out the rest of your days without a memory of this place. If it will allow your mind to rest, lest you leave now, this land will balance out eventually, but not without conflict.”

Andrew froze. “I could go home right now?”

Harmony nodded.

“I could go home…” His eyes flicked to the burning land ahead. 'I could go home right now and leave this all behind.' He thought back over the week as a whole. 'Leave behind the pain, leave behind the lack of civilization, leave behind the monsters…'

'...leave behind all the ponies.'

Andrew thought hard about this. He thought back to the first moment he had seen a pony, the first moment he had interacted with a pony, and the first time he had helped ponies. Throughout the week, he had spent much of his time amongst the ponies. They were uncivilized creatures, but at the same time, they weren’t. He had devoted so much of his time prior into helping these ponies evolve, and despite the short period, their progress had been astounding. All it required was a little care, but it wasn’t as if he was caring for a few pets or strays, he was caring for the growth of an entirely new civilization. They were his friends, no matter what Andrew told himself. Andrew took in a deep, relaxing breath to remind himself of who he was as Andrew:

Andrew wasn't one to stop a world of magical creatures from an untimely demise, but he also wasn't one to leave his friends hanging.

“If I was a good person, a good friend, I wouldn’t leave this land to go back home for my own personal comfort. But I would like to believe that I am a good person, and if there was one thing I would never ever do, it would be to leave my friends behind.” Crouching down on one knee, Andrew held his stick in his left hand and looked Harmony straight in the eyes. “I… I accept.”

Harmony smiled brightly, and Andrew swore he could see the hint of a tear in the mare’s eye. ”You will do well, Bushkeeper.” As the mare bowed her body, Andrew bowed himself, his head dipping respectfully low. ”You are a bushkeeper, and as the first of many to come, you are The Bushkeeper.”

“Thank you,” Andrew whispered, watching as the purple mist surrounding Mint’s eyes began to fade away. “I hope we talk again, Harmony.”

There was no audible reply, but Andrew knew Harmony agreed.

Andrew took in a slow, ragged breath. He was tired, but now that he knew of his true fate, he couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that there could be very little rest for him in the coming days. Careful not to put too much pressure on his leg, Andrew stood.

The mare looked up at Andrew, eyes wide. “Andrew?”

“Mint?”

”I feel… strange.”

With enough speed to surprise Mint, Andrew laid a hand on her withers. He gave a warm smile. “You’re fine, Mint.”

”Bushkeeper!” Snapping to attention, Andrew was immediately bounding over to the groggy herd of unicorns, hand grasped tightly around his stick. Mint followed shortly after. The brown earth pony mare ceased her attracting cries and looked to the unicorn herd. ”They awaken,” she whinnied softly.

One by one, the ponies stood from their positions in the dirt. It was hard not to notice the sharp crackle of electricity that seemed to bounce around the area. The hairs on Andrew’s arms and legs shot upwards as a visible flash of electricity hopped from a unicorn nearby to his hoodie. It did not take much logical thinking from Andrew to recognize that Harmony had been correct; the unicorns’ fwafwa was definitely stronger. Greeny was the first to stand completely, then came Lemon, and soon enough, the entire herd was up on their hooves, looking around blearily.

Greeny’s eyes landed on his own horn. ”What is this…?” He put a hoof to his horn, pulling back suddenly as a jolt of electricity sparked between his horn and hoof. His eyes grew wider as he took in the fact that the other unicorns were experiencing the same effect.

”This is the fwafwa of the sky gods,” Lemon breathed. His horn lit up, and as he went to perform a trick with his levitation and a nearby rock, the rock disappeared in a flash. He froze. ”I…”

Mint teleported a rock of her own away. Pulling herself upwards, she addressed the herd. ”We can stop the growth of the Light Land with the fwafwa of the Fabal!” She looked to Andrew, expecting to see a happy look on his face. Instead, she saw his cheek. Following his gaze to the clouds, Mint had to squint hard to spot what he was looking at.

There, flapping just beneath the clouds, were two flocks of pegasi.

21 - Preparations

Preparations

Hobbling forward, Andrew slit his eyes. In the ashen air around him, it was difficult to see exactly what was going on in the clouds.

”What do you see, Bushkeeper?”

“Jack squat from right here.” Sighing, Andrew turned back to the rest of the excited unicorns, all ready to go bounding off. “Alright, so here’s what I’m thinking...” He pointed to the earth pony herd as he addressed the unicorns before him. “You guys need to go—” the ponies ran off abruptly “—help them?” Rubbing his head awkwardly, Andrew looked back to the three unicorns and two earth ponies standing by him. “You five are coming with me, I guess.”

With a hand gesture and a quick order from Mint to follow Andrew, the Bushkeeper led the ponies down the hill. He paused before the ball of marble, then bent over and placed it back in his pocket.

“You never know with these things,” he mumbled.

”Bushkeeper?” Andrew’s eyes flicked to Lemon. ”What are we doing?”

“Checking on the pegasi.”

Lemon’s ears folded back against his head. ”I don’t understand.”

”Cloudmasters,” Mint snorted. “Pegasi.”

Lemon whickered, pulling back in surprise. ”What is that tongue?”

Greeny looked worried. ”They’re getting closer.”

With a smile and an affirmative nod, Andrew pointed his stick to the two approaching flocks. “Yeah, we’re going to check on the—wait…” He turned suddenly, eyes widening. “What the...?” Andrew was unable to finish his sentence as a black ball of fur slammed into him.

”Bushkeeper!” Sparky was all over Andrew as the teenager struggled to regain his lost breath. ”You are here!”

“I was gone one day, Sparky.” Andrew slid the colt off of him and laid there, a hand pressed against his chest. “Ow... why the ribs?”

“Andrew?” Mint croaked worriedly, galloping over to his side. ”Are you alright, Bushkeeper?”

“I think I landed on my thermos, and my chest is killing me, but I should be fine.” Grunting, the teenager pushed himself back up into a sitting position. “Urgh.” Nearby, Blackie and his herd, including the second pegasus flock, landed. Andrew glared from his position on the ground at Sparky’s mother, the grey mare’s head held low.

The mare whickered softly. ”I am—”

“Sorry?” With another heave, Andrew stood. He let his hiking pack slide from his shoulders and rubbed his lower back painfully. “What are you doing here? You come to watch the unicorns burn?” The mare could not understand his speech, but his tone was universal. Whimpering, the mare dropped low to the ground.

It was then Andrew realized the wounds tracing her body. He threw his stick aside and crumpled over beside her. “Sweet god…” The mare winced as Andrew ran a hand through her crimson-stained fur. “What happened to you?”

Blackie walked over calmly, a frown on his features. ”Traitors.”

“Huh?”

”A traitorous herd lurks these lands.” Andrew knew what he was talking about, but let the stallion continue. ”Even the Great Open is dangerous in these times.”

“They attacked you?” The mare stayed quiet as Andrew inspected one of her hooves. Growling, Andrew stepped around to the side of the mare, and in one smooth motion, lifted the mare up in both arms. Silently, Andrew slid the mare over the back of the orange earth pony. He pointed hard to the Berry Forest. Understanding the command, the stallion nodded. The brown mare gave one glance back to Andrew before following her brother.

”Bushkeeper?” Mint’s voice was unable to cut through Andrew’s thoughts.

Andrew picked up his stick and bag and began to walk over to the combined earth pony and unicorn herd. The grey mare’s herd followed after their leader into the Berry Forest, whilst Blackie and the three unicorns trotted towards the flames. Andrew’s grip tightened around his stick as he approached the ponies.

“Stop.” The spoken word gave every pony in the vicinity pause. The earth ponies ceased their desecration of the grass, and the unicorns stopped assisting the earth ponies in dampening the earth with water. A tense silence ran through the already thick air as Andrew wandered into the midst of the group. He stopped suddenly, looking around at the worried ponies. As Andrew spoke, the herd around him briefly held understanding of his language.

“I want you all to do what you can to slow down the fire, but we can’t stop this entirely. This is a loss for all of us, and I think it’s time to fall back and count this down as a defeat.” Andrew’s eyes glanced back to the ponies following him. “Do what you can to stop this, but I’m going to go get us all ready for the journey ahead. This place isn’t safe for anyone here, and we simply don’t have the power to stop this.”

”But the fwafwa of the Fabal—!”

“It can only do so much.” Andrew looked to Lemon. “Do what you can, but I expect to see you back in the thicket. I will not hesitate to return and retrieve those that attempt to stay, but know that if you do stay, you only make things worse for all of us. If you really want to stop this spread of nature’s violence, then you will walk away with me.”

“Andrew?” He looked to Mint. “Running?”

“I’m not running,” he said, looking to the fire. “It’s just that I’ve realized that there a lot of things here that will be out of our control, but I know that the future could bring control to us.” He turnt on a heel and walked over to Mint, then past her. Pausing a short distance away, Andrew looked back over the carefully listening ponies. “There can be no future if none of us are there to herald it; I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not going to force you all to change your minds on how this war should be fought, but whether or not you follow me will make the difference in how the future plays out.”

Taking one last breath, Andrew turned and began walking to the woods. The flames crackled in his ears, but as he reflected over his statements and their undertones, he could hear the faint sound of hooves trotting after him.

Andrew smiled a proud, toothless grin as he walked away from the lost battle. There wouldn’t be any victories won on the ground controlled by the enemy, but in a new homeland untouched by nature’s minions, there could be peace.

With his followers behind him, Andrew began the first step of the journey to peace.

23 - Plans

Plans

Andrew thought that it had been hard enough to scale the mountains, but going down was another story entirely. His leg was killing him despite the natural remedy one of the ponies had applied to him. He suspected the earth ponies had done the binding on his leg, but he never made his comments aloud; he was far too busy trying not to die.

“Nope.” Andrew shook his head and stepped back from the ledge. “No, nuh-uh. Not happening.”

Mint cocked her head sideways. “Bushkeeper?”

“Mint—” he pointed a finger down at the plateau below “—that is not happening today.” He pat his leg gently and glared at Mint. “Not with this, and especially not at any time. Scaling the mountain without gear was fine, but climbing down the mountain without gear is another story entirely.”

Andrew swore he could see Mint roll her eyes before she turned around to Blackie and the pegasi. ”Carry the Bushkeeper, please.”

Bowing low momentarily, Blackie zipped over and hooked his hooves under Andrew’s arms and lifted him upwards with a grunt.

“Hey! Drop me right—”

With the help of the white pegasus mare from before, the two pegasi held Andrew over the edge.

“—after we land, okay?!” Andrew’s eyes were wide as he stared down at the lengthy drop. His eyes squeezed shut. “It’s always better on the way up…” he whimpered.

Thankfully for Andrew, the flight was over relatively quickly. Unfortunately for Andrew, they still had three more plateaus to cover. By the time the pegasus herd had landed at the base of the mountain, Andrew was ready to vomit. Groaning, he laid down in the sweet green grass beneath the nearby trees and curled up.

Blackie whickered worriedly and stepped closer to the human. ”Bushkeeper?”

“Leave me alone,” Andrew grumbled, clutching his stomach. “My stomach’s is killing me.”

With a shrug, Blackie returned to his herd and looked over Storm. Andrew couldn’t hear what was going on due to a combination of distance and the singing birds above, but he could care less; he was going to take a nap, and that was final.

In a perfect world, at least.

Far too soon for his liking, Andrew recognized the thump of multiple hooves dropping into the grass, signifying the dreaded arrival of the earth ponies and unicorns. He heard some of the hooves approaching him, and against his will, he was rolled over by a hoof to face Mint, Greeny, and Lemon. The three unicorns all eyed him with varying levels of emotion; Mint looked worried, Greeny was amused, and Lemon looked annoyed.

”Bushkeeper?” Mint began.

Sighing, Andrew sat up and dusted himself off before standing. “I’m good.” He paused, looking around briefly. “Where’s my stick?” Andrew spotted an earth pony walking over with the aforementioned stick in its mouth. Andrew gladly accepted it, giving the earth pony’s withers a pat as a reward. Andrew turned to the three unicorns and nodded. “Let’s go.”

It was clear to anyone that was watching that Andrew had no idea where he was leading the massive herd, but the ponies behind him seemed not to notice. Andrew severely regretted not spending time up on the mountain to survey the valley further, but that didn’t really matter to him. What did matter was the group’s newfound safety in the mountain-locked plains.

Calling the area a land of plains would be incorrect. There were definitely great amounts of open fields, but close to the mountains and the western ocean, a large forest prospered. The further the group ventured towards the central plain to the north, the more and more evidence of young life appeared. Andrew, for his part, spotted a multitude of baby creatures following after their mothers. From deer to rabbits, the eerily calm critters seemed endless in the forest. The unicorns and pegasi shared Andrew’s interest in the forest’s denizens, but earth ponies seemed keen on pointing out tiny piles of earth that appeared every so often. At first, Andrew didn’t really pay the small mounds any mind, but when an earth pony pressed their hooves into the dirt next to the mound and caused a seedling to sprout, Andrew could do nothing but stare.

The brown earth pony herd leader whispered something to her own seedling that she had sprouted, causing it to shiver and twitch. There was something unnatural about the process, but Andrew considered that it was probably normal for the earth ponies to do such a thing; this wasn’t Earth, after all. The unicorns and pegasi didn’t seem to care, though. Shaking his head, Andrew waited patiently for the earth ponies to finish their strange rituals.

Time passed quickly, and as Andrew emerged out of the forest and into the central plain, he was pleasantly surprised to find a humble field of low-lying blueberry bushes. The ponies followed after him as he approached the berries. They stood still as Andrew inspected a berry he had plucked from a bush. Popping it into his mouth, he chewed slowly. The berry was gone too soon, and Andrew was quick to find another ripe berry. Yet again, he tasted the surprisingly strong taste of blueberry as he chewed. Pausing, Andrew chuckled and waved the staring ponies on.

The ponies immediately began to devour any berry they could get their hooves on. Something warm tingled in his chest as Andrew looked over the bone-thin ponies munching on berries. He was surprised that he had made it so far with them. Andrew honestly felt that he would have given up ages ago.

Looking up into the sky, Andrew raised a hand to avoid the glare of the sweltering sun. Contrary to the cold mountain air, the plains held the brunt of the late summer heat. Andrew assumed that it was summer; it had been late July when he had first arrived, so it must have been August by now. Andrew paused, his mind distracted by a previous sentiment; winter was coming. How much time did the herds and him have left to prepare for winter? Eyeing the icy wasteland to the north, Andrew shuddered. This place held only a few similarities to Earth, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that even seasons could be different.

Things may have been different, but Andrew could adapt.

For one thing, the lifestyle of the ponies required a drastic change. Andrew knew that he had to help the ponies begin the development of their civilization, and that most of the work had been done for him; the ponies had a spoken language, a pictographic language, a culture, and some form of social hierarchy. All that was left for them to prove that they were a civilization was agriculture; government and specialized labor would come to fruition then. Silently, Andrew thanked his history class and wiped his hands on his jeans.

There was a plethora of other things that needed to be done as well: create a reliable communication system between the ponies and himself, look for a good place to settle down in the valley, find seeds to plant, stock up for winter, and find some way to defend themselves. At this point, all Andrew knew that the ponies could offer in terms of self-defense were their hooves, wings, and the strange levitation tricks that the unicorns pulled every now and then. Andrew eyed one of said unicorns, currently channeling their strange visual energy into levitating a cluster of blueberries down to a familiar white unicorn foal.

The language barrier was what Andrew was most anxious about. Sucking in breath, he decided that now would be as good a time as ever to get started; he’d been putting it off long enough. Andrew walked over to Greeny, the unicorn busy munching away on berries, and picked up his keratin tooth. Running his hands over the etched surface, Andrew attempted to find meaning in the pictures.

Greeny had done nothing to improve the small pictograms that he had first carved days ago, but there had been a few changes to the background of the carving. Further behind the herds and the tall humanoid figure, there now stood a chain of mountains. Andrew made a hazardous guess that Greeny was maintaining some sort of story of where the herds were going. He sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t have to guess if they could understand each other.

Mint was standing beside Greeny, and paused in her feast to check in on Andrew.

“Bushkeeper?”

Andrew held a hand up to the mare without looking. “Wait.” After patting Greeny on the back and placing the unicorn’s work back down, Andrew turned to Mint.

Mint cocked her head. “Wait?”

Andrew slipped a berry out from the hood in his front pocket and offered it to Mint. He gave her a toothy smile.

“Yes.”

Mint snorted, but took the berry anyway.

“Alright!” Andrew stood and clapped his hands together, attracting the attention of most of the ponies nearby. “Nobody can understand me, which is problem number one. Problem number two is that we have no long-term source of food for winter. Problem number three is that apparently some sort of apocalypse is about to happen. Sort of.” Andrew dropped his arms and sighed. “What a life.”

"Andrew?" Mint attempted to cut in.

He blissfully ignored the mare and continued ever onward. “Did I mention that another problem is that I need meat?”

Mint whinnied angrily and kicked Andrew roughly. ”Lead us, do not be childish!”

Andrew rubbed his shin for a moment then stood back, gesturing to the ponies watching the two. “How about you lead, herd leader?”

Mint’s eyes went wide. ”I do not—!”

“No no—” Andrew waved his hands in front of him “—I understand.” Grinning madly, he took another step back and gestured again. “You need your space. Go right on ahead.”

”Fwalfa?” a unicorn asked from the crowd. ”What is the Bushkeeper’s word?”

Mint looked to Andrew. ”Fine.” she huffed. Returning her gaze to the unicorns before her, she spoke. ”Survey the lands, look for the yellow grass and cleared water. ”

The brown herd leader of the earth ponies stepped forward, her herd behind her. ”We will assist in the yellow grass.”

Blackie stomped a hoof, causing Andrew and Mint to turn around. Blackie spoke as he and his herd came up from a bow. ”We shall watch from the Great Open.”

With nearly simultaneous reactions, the herds split up, leaving behind the herd leaders and their mates. Andrew scratched his head and looked embarrassedly to Mint. The mare looked up quizzically to Andrew.

“Uh…” He laughed a little. “I guess I kinda overestimated how nervous you would be going into your leadership role. I mean… wow. You really just took over there.”

Mint ignored Andrew’s ramblings. ”What now, Bushkeeper?”

“Now…” Andrew straightened and looked to the disappearing herds, two of them trotting about the nearby grassland and trees, and one of them flying through the sky between the clouds. “...we plan out what’s going to be happening from here on out.”

”What?” Blackie snorted. He looked to Mint. ”What did the Bushkeeper say?”

“You know what? Whatever.” Andrew motioned for the ponies to follow and began walking. “Let’s go over… here.”

Andrew dropped his bag and walking stick, then sat down on the ground. He was soon joined by the five ponies who had stayed with him, the ponies opting to fold their legs rather than crossing them like Andrew. He found it curious that the foals had gone with the rest of the herds, but after thinking it over for a moment, Andrew decided that larger numbers probably meant that the foals were safer. He was about to begin speaking when he realized that each of the herd leaders had a mate, save for the earth pony leader.

He pointed to the mare. “Uh… hornless pony. Wait, that sounds kind of messed up. Erm, lemme just call you Brownie, you good with that?”

The mare blinked blankly at him.

“Brownie,” Andrew enunciated slowly. “Brownie.”

”A name!” Storm whinnied excitedly from beside Blackie. ”The Bushkeeper gives you a name!”

The newly named Brownie cocked her head slightly. “Brownie?” Blinking, she looked to Storm. ”What is a name?”

“What you are now the proud owner of,” Andrew cut in. “Also, Storm…” Andrew leant forward and brushed his hand through the stained fur of the grey mare. “We’ve neglected the blood for too long, but it needs to go.”

Storm waved Andrew off. ”I am fine, Bushkeeper.” She paused suddenly. ”What are you—?”

Andrew watched as the water he had just poured from his thermos and onto Storm’s fur soaked in. Silently, he scooted closer and began rubbing the crimson away. Blackie was quick to catch on and immediately went to work as he took Andrew’s place. Smiling, Andrew leant back and looked over the rest of three other ponies who watched him with equal attention.

“Now listen closely…” Andrew broke a tiny twig off of his walking stick and began to draw in the ground. “We’re going to do a small lesson for productivity’s sake…”

24 - Lessons

Lessons

Despite their clear intelligence, the ponies were a lot less productive than they seemed. Mint listened with rapt attention to Andrew’s words and motions, but the other ponies were clearly lost in the grand scheme that Andrew had attempted to wheel into motion. Groaning, the teenager put his twig down and leant back.

He threw his hands into the air. “Guys!” Five heads shot to him. “Listen to me!” he hissed, pronouncing each syllable clearly. His finger landed on the alphabet he had drawn upside down for the ponies. “I’m trying to teach something to you guys, and all I get are dull eyes. What happened to the intelligence?”

Mint tapped on the alphabet. ”Bushkeeper, what is this?”

“Writing.”

Mint cocked her head, then repeated Andrew. “Writing?”

“Yes.” He pointed to Mint. “You.” His finger went to the alphabet, but his eyes remained on Mint. “Writing?” A glimmer of hope surged into Andrew’s deteriorating soul as Mint nodded eagerly.

“Writing! We do, we do!” she whinnied. Mint violently plucked the twig from the ground, then began drawing into the dirt. Andrew had to walk around to Mint’s side to see what the mare was drawing with the stick, but his jaw dropped upon seeing the completed work a minute later.

“Mint…” he began slowly. “What’s this?”

“Writing!” she provided happily.

Forty-six individual characters stared up from the ground at Andrew. All of them were clearly from the pictographic language, but there were just too many for him to be able to take in all at once. Andrew went to share his inability to understand the writing with Mint.

”Alpha. Leader.” Andrew looked at the owner of the green hoof that had landed on the first character. Greeny looked up at Andrew with a warm smile. ”You understand?”

Andrew nodded simply. “Yes, Greeny.”

With those four simple words from the unicorn, a whole world of understanding was unleashed upon the ponies that had been previously idle in the group’s ‘productive’ planning session.

”A name for you!” Storm whickered excitedly to Greeny.

“Greeny.” Mint ran her snout along Greeny’s neck with a pleasant smile. ”My mate… a name.”

Brownie’s eyes were wide with recognition. ”A name…”

Andrew hopped in. “Name.” He pointed to each pony as he mentioned them. “Greeny. Mint. Storm. Blackie. Brownie.”

Greeny tapped on the written pony language. “Name?”

Andrew was all too happy to oblige; things were starting to go somewhere. “Word.”

Mint piped up. “Words?”

Andrew clapped excitedly and laughed. “That’s the intelligence I’m looking for!” He nodded vigorously. “Yes. Word. Words.”

“Ponies.” Mint was standing now, with Andrew watching in amazement as she took control of the learning. She pointed to Storm and Blackie. “Pegasi.” She pointed to Brownie, then looked to Andrew for support.

She wanted Andrew to name the words as they went on. So Andrew did.

Mint, along with the help of Andrew, began to name everything she pointed at. “Pegasus. Hornless.” She pointed to herself. “Unicorn. Unicorns.” Mint gestured to all of the ponies, this time speaking without Andrew’s assistance. “Ponies.”

Mint and Andrew let the words sink in for a while. Greeny repeated the words in shaky English, and once he had, he gave a brisk nod. He looked to Andrew and whickered softly. ”Shall I teach you of our language, Bushkeeper?”

Andrew smiled and nodded. “I’d love that.”

Over a small period of time, a plan was silently designed between Andrew and Mint. The group of six was split into a group of four and a group of two: Greeny would begin teaching Andrew of the written pony language, and the other group would practice English with Mint. Andrew threw a look in the mare’s direction as she taught the three ponies what words meant what to Andrew.

Andrew grinned. “This’ll work out just fine.” He returned to Greeny and gave a nod.

The pony pictograms were actually a lot more simple than Andrew had feared. They contained whole meanings for words, such as alpha and leader, but there were some strange combinations that seemed to exist; some symbols put together meant different things. As Greeny spoke the words out loud, it became obvious that both languages were put together with modular structures in mind. Andrew had tried his hand at emulating the symbols, but it had turned out poorly. Similarly enough, Greeny also had trouble writing in English. An agreement was formed between Greeny and Andrew that writing could wait.

The group decided to call it quits after the unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies had returned from their expeditions. Many of the earth ponies and unicorns came bounding up with what Andrew recognized as wild wheat stalks in their mouths, and more than a few clouds were being tugged along by the pegasi. A few words were shared between the earth ponies and the pegasi with clouds. As Andrew stepped forward to question the reason for the clouds, he had to pause to watch a couple of the earth ponies begin digging a hole. Within seconds, a decent trench had been dug into the ground. The pegasi flew over with their clouds, and after a few strong bucks to the clouds, a water began to pour from the clouds and into the trench.

Ponies all around scrambled for the water and began to drink, and Andrew himself felt attracted to the liquid. He stepped over to inspect the water, and was surprised by what he found; the water was the same azure liquid that he had seen in the cave.

It had felt like weeks ago since he’d been in the cave, but he could recognize that water anywhere.

Andrew scratched his head and looked to Mint as she pulled up beside him. “Where did they get this water from?”

All Mint could offer Andrew was a pair of folded ears and her sympathy.

“Right, whatever. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

With food and water secured, Andrew settled in with the berries in his hood to listen to the lead leaders speak with their ponies.

The white unicorn and her foal trotted out of the crowd of excitedly blabbing ponies and bowed before Mint and Andrew.

”Fwalfa, Bushkeeper.” She stood. ”We have returned with the yellow grass.”

Mint nodded. ”Thank you. What else did you discover?”

”A strange hollow,” came the immediate reply. Andrew cocked his head and leant forward, arms crossed. ”It held an… unfamiliar aura.”

Andrew threw one of his hands out. “Care to explain?” Mint nodded in agreement.

The mare shuffled awkwardly as her foal ran back and forth between her hooves. ”There was something calming in the forest. Many of the herd paused to rest, and it was only through the help of our fwafwa that we were able to wake them.”

”Strange,” Mint whinnied quietly. ”That is worrying. Were you able to identify the cause?”

Unfortunately, the mare shook her head.

Andrew uncrossed his arms and sighed. “So we stay out of the woods. Got it.” He spotted Blackie talking to one of his pegasi. Picking up his walking stick from where he had left it, Andrew left the two mares to their conversation.

”—and there is a well-protected glen there as well.”

Andrew clasped a hand on Blackie’s withers. “What’d I miss?”

”Bushkeeper!” The stallion that had been speaking bowed low and then stood again. ”There is a good place to stay the night!”

Andrew laughed and shook his head, causing a burst of confusion from the stallion.

”Bushkeeper?”

Andrew smiled and waved him off. “I was just thinking that we’d be staying there longer than a night.” He glanced about for a moment, then turned back to the pegasus and made a gesture with his hand. “Lead the way.”

The pegasus understood immediately. After bowing again, he lifted up into the air and began flapping away. It wouldn’t be too hard for Andrew to catch up to the stallion, so he looked again at the ponies. They all seemed busy eating to their content and taking care of the foals. Some of the adults were even playing with each other. Andrew thought that they all looked so… so carefree. They had just escaped fiery damnation, so Andrew supposed it wouldn’t be too far out there to imagine that they wanted some joy before their next adventure.

With a quick wave goodbye to Mint, Andrew went after the pegasus, walking stick in hand.

The pegasus had paused up ahead to wait for Andrew, but was surprised to find that Andrew was very fast on his feet. Smiling, Andrew skid to a halt and pat the pegasus on the leg. The two were off again quickly, and Andrew was pretty impressed that the pegasus was nearly outpacing him.

Nearly. The walking stick Andrew had didn’t slow him that much.

After about fifteen minutes of walking, it seemed that the two had reached their destination. The pegasus landed on the ground and looked back to Andrew with a snort.

”What do you think, Bushkeeper?”

Stepping forward, Andrew inspected the area.

A well-sized stream that had branched off from the main river to the east came down from a nearby hill, dividing the area in two. One one side of the stream lay a small grove of apple trees, which Andrew was all too happy to see. On the other side was a hilly meadow that had a few hills that were taller than Andrew. From where Andrew was standing on his own hill, the area seemed to be about four city blocks wide; decently sized for a starting area. They were located in the center of the plains, for the forests to the north and south were at least a couple miles away. It would make it easier for them to defend if worst came to worst, and the existence of the blueberry patch close by meant that more food could be easily accessible. Living closer to the main river also meant that fishing could be a possibly, and Andrew deeply desired meat.

Just the thought of meat caused Andrew’s stomach to rumble. It was in that moment that he realized just how hungry he was. He had been neglecting the fact for long enough, and the mere idea that he had not eaten in at least a day only made Andrew hungrier. Andrew turned, one hand clutched to his stomach, then nodded to the pegasus. Andrew didn’t say anything, too occupied on the thought of food.

The pegasus led Andrew back to the other ponies. Most of them had joined in playing, but a select few from each species of pony were sticking close to Mint. As Andrew approached, he realized that Mint was teaching the foals and some adults the little English she knew. Some of the foals were off to the side practicing their writing. Greeny was nearby carving into his tooth. Andrew was curious to see what new additions the unicorn would be making, but the rumble of his stomach again cut that thought short. Blackie was close enough by to hear Andrew’s stomach, and immediately stood from his place. Mint smiled and waved to Andrew, which the teenager weakly returned.

”Bushkeeper, are you hungry?”

Andrew’s stomach grumbled again. “Yes… I am.”

Blackie’s ears folded against his head at the sound. ”Do you want fish?”

Andrew’s eager nod made the pegasus chortle.

”I will send some of my herd to cross the Great Open to the eastern river.”

“That would be great,” Andrew gave him a wide smile, “Thanks.”

Smiling back with just as much force, Blackie trotted off to assemble a party.

Andrew hiked over to where Mint was instructing and sat down. Seeing the pony at eye level with him made Andrew recall his first time meeting Mint in the blueberry thicket, and that forced a particular emotion of nostalgia into his throat. He combed his hand through her cyan mane, causing the mare to pause for a moment, but she recovered quickly enough. Andrew leant against the mare and listened to her speaking to the ponies. The others seemed to not be able to pick up on English as well as the herd leaders, but Andrew was sure that under the leadership of Mint, they would learn soon enough.

Sighing, Andrew shut his eyes and waited for the pegasi to return with meat.

25 - Storms

Storms

Andrew awoke with a startle as something landed on his stomach. Not hard enough to take the wind from him, but hard enough to make sure that he felt it. At some point, he had fallen asleep beside Mint, and when he opened his eyes and looked past the white colt that had jumped onto him, he realized that he’d been set aside another pony. Looking back, he noticed that it was the white foal’s mother.

"Bushkeeper!" The foal on Andrew's stomach bounced up and back down. "Play!" he snorted.

Smiling softly, Andrew picked up the foal and heaved himself up. He wasn’t used to holding a child, no less a foal, so he hoped that holding the colt underneath his forelegs was comfortable enough.

“Later,” he whispered, setting the colt down beside his mother.

The colt seemed to forget his previous desire to play, and instead immediately snuggled up against his mother. Grinning, Andrew glanced about.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, causing a groan to escape Andrew. His sleeping schedule would no doubt be ruined by his long nap. He rubbed at an eye as he looked about for his stick. “Why am I so tired nowadays?”

Andrew saw that his walking stick was being used as an impromptu limbo stick for the foals. Andrew decided to let Greeny have his fun with the two pegasus foals, two unicorns, and three earth ponies that were bouncing around him. He spotted Mint resting near the blueberry bushes, her head laying on the ground. The two locked eyes for a moment, and despite the wave from Andrew, Mint only gave a yawn in reply.

A rumble of his stomach alerted Andrew to his needs. The pegasi were nowhere in sight, which came across as strange to Andrew. Blackie, however, was still here, along with a few other pegasi. Brownie was standing with her herd near the new dugout they had formed, and from the sound of things, they were talking mostly about the future. Deciding that he may as well make himself an informed man, Andrew walked slowly over to the group, making sure to keep his weight off his leg.

Brownie was the first to notice him, and flicked a worried glance in his direction. "Is your leg well, Bushkeeper?"

Andrew gave a thumbs up. “Just sore. Don’t know what… I mean, why, my leg hurts, though.” Brownie seemed satisfied and went back to speaking with the present members of her herd.

"Again, the Frost Moon is approaching fast." Brownie looked to Andrew and smiled. "The Bushkeeper will lead us." Snorting, Brownie looked to the resting Mint. "And the fwalfa of the willhorns as well."

One of the earth ponies stepped forward. "What of your part, fwalfa?" A soft murmuring bubbled through the followers at the question. All Andrew could understand from the language was that there were some concerns and fears amongst the group.

"I will do as the earth has always taught us." Her ear twitched. "Listen to the earth, and follow its messengers."

Intrigued, Andrew watched the earth ponies bow to Brownie before the herd separated; the two leaders were left alone. Brownie was the first to begin a conversation.

"Bushkeeper, I fear there is a message that has remained undelivered."

“What is it?”

The mare’s ear flicked again. The motion seemed perfectly natural to the untrained eye, but to Andrew, there was something… something strange to the motion.

"The Light Land has not been halted in its entirety." Andrew raised a brow as Brownie continued, "The black sky has drifted closer to us. We fear the earth here will be corrupted with its plague."

Andrew shook his head. “That’s not good.”

Another flick of her ear. "The earth tells us that… that we must rely on the…" she sucked in a breath before she finished with a whicker, "rely on the cloudmasters."

“There a problem with that?” He was glad to see that the universal tone was understood.

"No, Bushkeeper… We… I, will allow it, but know that I will not be too pleased with reliance upon the cloudmasters."

“Pegasi.”

Brownie swallowed thickly, then began slowly. “Peegasee?”

“Pe. Ga. Si.” Andrew made an outward motion with his hand. “Try again.”

“Pe. Ga. Si. Pegasi.”

Andrew smiled; it sounded like Mint’s English, broken but intelligible.

“Yes, and your concern is noted.”

"Thank you." Bowing only her head, Brownie turned to wander off, but paused mid-stride. She turned again to Andrew. "The earth does not approve of interference. Contact with the natural order is inappropriate and will lead to lasting change." Bowing her head one last time, she whispered, "Earth be with you."

Bowing from the waist, Andrew replied, “Earth be with you.”

Her face scrunched up, causing Andrew to laugh.

“We’ll get around to full sentences. Don’t worry.”

Snorting, Brownie stomped off.

Andrew chewed on his lip and looked around for Blackie. He felt that the pegasus already knew, but deep down inside, Andrew also felt that Brownie was telling Andrew about the fire to the south because it was his decision to make. Suddenly, the weight of the trust the ponies had placed into him sank in.

“Oh god!” Andrew laughed to himself. “We’re all so boned! I can’t lead to save my life!”

Then, upon realizing that Mint was staring at him with a glare, Andrew remembered two things. One, Mint was probably going to take up most of the leadership anyway, and two, you do not disturb a busy woman during her nap. Well, it was probably more busy mare in this case. Whatever the situation was, Andrew knew that it was time to vacate the area: he decided to break up the fun of the foals and retrieve his stick.

Blackie was waiting for him as soon as he turned around.

“Gah!” Andrew hobbled backwards.

Blackie blinked owlishly. "You have talked to the hornless’ fwalfa."

“Dude! Have you done that before? I feel like you’ve spooked me before.” Groaning, Andrew clutched a hand to his chest and nodded. “Yes… yes I did.”

"Have you made a decision for the cloudmasters?"

“Go for it,” was Andrew’s instant response. Blackie had a blank look to his face, irritating Andrew just a tad; he felt that his tone was clear. “Yes,” Andrew began, “you’re free to go ahead with the clouds.” He emphasized his statement by pointing to one of the nearby clouds that had been left behind by the earlier rainstorm.

"Very well, I will send for the clouds as soon as the gathering party returns."

“Sounds good.”

And so, Andrew waited.

He played with the foals a little bit in the dimming light of the sky. When they had scampered off to eat with their parents or simply rest, Andrew had turned to a newly awakened Mint who had begun teaching the ponies English again. Progress was unbearably slow, and Andrew made a mental note that the leaders of each herd seemed to have the easiest time of learning the language, especially Mint. By six in the evening, according to Andrew’s watch, the pegasi still had yet to return from their trip.

Andrew would not have been worried, had Blackie not begun to fear for them as well.

"The trips do not usually take so long," he whinnied worriedly. Andrew finished adjusting his hiking pack’s straps and listened to the stallion. "Perhaps we should check on them."

Andrew thought the plan over. On one hand, Andrew would be able to solve the hunger that had been plaguing him since noon, but on the other hand, leaving the camp meant that anything could happen while he was away. He didn’t want to return to a group of herds that had just been attacked. Then again, the odds were twenty-four adults ponies to however many things attacked. Andrew was sure the ponies would be able to handle themselves.

Suddenly, Andrew realized just how dangerous it was for the ponies to be out at night. The pegasi that had gone east should definitely have been able to return to the berry thicket within an hour, so there were only a few things holding them up: a lack of caught fish, a detour for something of interest to them, or worst case scenario, an attack had taken place.

Andrew clasped his hiking pack fully into place and gave a curt nod to Blackie. “Let’s go.”

With even more worry in his eyes, Blackie led Andrew away from the herds, unbeknownst to the rest of the ponies.

Darkness had fallen, though it was still quite easy for Andrew to see in the night. Unfortunately, Blackie did not seem to share the same vision; Andrew’s brief glances to the pegasus told him that he was squinting hard around him. They both knew what was going on around them, however.

Something was watching them.

Following closely beside Blackie, Andrew felt a shiver run down his spine as he crested the hill. The river was right ahead, and the approximately thirty minute walk there meant that it had definitely been possible for the pegasi to reach the river, fish, and return within at least two hours. But they hadn’t, and Andrew felt that it had something to do with the eyes he felt watching him.

Another shudder ran down his spine. What was watching them?

There was no obvious sign of a struggle, or any pegasi for that matter. The stones by the river were marked only by the water cascading down from the mountains. Andrew was wary as he stepped closer to the water’s edge and peered in. He immediately spotted a prawn in the crystal clear water, but did not reach in to grab it.

Something had just zipped past him.

On instinct, Andrew whipped around and hit the blur of wind with his walking stick. The impromptu weapon hit dead on with the flying critter, sending it careening into the rocks. There was an awful crack in the air as the side of its head landed straight on a large chunk of rock. Andrew limped over the rocks, his stick still held in both hands, and peered down at the creature.

Without a doubt, it was a pegasus.

Thankfully enough, the crack of the head meeting rock seemed to be a side effect of one of the pegasus’ teeth slamming into it. Surprisingly enough, the teeth hadn’t shattered despite the noise. Andrew muttered a quick prayer for the creature: he hoped that the blow hadn’t harmed it to badly.

Blackie alighted beside Andrew with a look of amazement. "That was an amazing blow, Bushkeepert…" he kicked the pegasus lightly with a hoof, causing a groan from the creature, "however, he is not of our herd."

“Then where did he come from?”

They both knew where the pegasus had come from, but neither of them dared speak aloud. In their thumping hearts and readied ears, Andrew and Blackie knew exactly what herd the pegasus had come from, and a clue as to the fate of the pegasi they had sent out from Blackie’s herd.

Because something was watching them.

The sound of thunder and a bolt of lightning caused Blackie and Andrew to jump to the side. Right where Andrew had been previously standing, a small gouge of flame had risen up. He stomped it out immediately, whilst Blackie busied himself with staring up at the nearby black clouds that had emerged from nowhere.

"Those are the clouds we saw before!" Blackie whinnied wildly, his eyes going wide. "They are not of the earth, those are of the cloudmaster design!"

Surely enough, Andrew could see forms zipping about in a group of black clouds above them. He readied his stick again and stepped back, but as another bolt of lightning shot down from the heavens, Andrew realized with horror what plan the traitorous pegasi had enacted to make sure that they received their revenge: Andrew could only walk, but the pegasi could fly.

“It’s a trap!”

Author's Note

No Admiral Snackbar jokes allowed.
Procrastination is Magic: 1hr 15min writing time.

26 - Fantasies

Fantasies

Blackie dodged an additional bolt of lightning, prompting another response from Andrew.

Andrew yelled to Blackie mid-bounce, “Pegasi can do that?!”

"Stay down!" Blackie shot back.

Andrew stumbled backwards as a bolt landed right at his feet.

“You don’t have to tell me that!”

Blackie kicked up a hoofful of dirt and lobbed it upwards hard. Somehow, the dirt remained in a large clump. It landed spot on with one of the pegasi holding onto a black cloud, shaking them slightly. Andrew was both impressed and confused: how had Blackie managed such a throw, and why did he not go up to fight the pegasi? Nonetheless, the two were both at the will of the pegasi above.

Well, not for very long.

"Stay here!" Blackie took flight and soared low across the lands in the direction that he and Andrew had come. Two pegasi followed after the stallion, leaving Andrew alone with four of his own to deal with.

“Really?! I hope there’s more to your plan than just flying away!?” The crescendoing cackle of electricity caused Andrew to dodge another bolt of lightning. Andrew gave an exasperated mental sigh. 'Great, now what am I gonna do?'

Steeling himself, Andrew bit hard on his lip and jumped the river. His boots landed partway in the water, and with a surge of epinephrine, Andrew left a splash in his wake. The pegasi behind him were momentarily surprised, but quickly took off after him. Unfortunately for them, Andrew was much faster on his feet than they were in the air.

Except for one bulky black pegasus that was nigh invisible in the night.

Andrew’s eyes flicked around the darkness, searching for a way to evade the pegasi. The nearby forest caught his eye, and with only a slight moment of hesitation, he turned and began running straight for it. His leg throbbed under the weight of each step, but as he quickly came up on the forest, the pain disappeared entirely. Andrew was not sure what gland had released a new hormone into his system, but he was definitely sure that he would not be pleased with his next wakeup call.

Andrew was only mere meters away from the forest when the black pegasus caught up with him. The two of them rolled into the woods, fighting hoof and hand for leverage over each other. Andrew threw a hard punch into the stallion’s side, knocking the wind out of him, but a hoof to Andrew’s groin caught him by surprise as well. Nature apparently had a vendetta for the two, as they both rolled over a rocky edge and onto a lower elevation. Andrew managed to flip himself in time to land on the pegasus. No crack filled the air, but a loud crunch certainly did. Andrew did not register the sound, even after the bundle up duo had rolled to a complete stop. Throwing one last punch at the stallion’s chest, Andrew stood shakily.

Another crunch filled the air, and this time, Andrew recognized the sound. Whipping towards the sound on the balls of his feet, Andrew raised his fists upward.

“Who’s there?!”

Another crunch. The sound came from back towards the stallion, and as Andrew turned back again, his heart came to a painful, lurching halt.

A giant spider was watching the two creatures carefully.

The stallion whickered weakly as he began to stand. "What are you?"

Andrew rushed over to the stallion and kicked him in the gut.

“Shut up.” Andrew slung the stallion over his shoulder. “Fatty.”

The stallion pawed weakly at Andrew’s back, but gave up when he saw that another spider was behind Andrew.

"Away, away!" he whimpered. "Monster! Away, away!"

“Shut up!” Andrew spotted another set of eyes from his left. “Just shut up you idiot! You’re gonna get us killed!”

The stallion waved his hooves wildly. "Away away! Monster monster! Away monster aw—!"

Crunch!

Andrew dropped the walking stick that he had just used to knock out the stallion. It fell to the cold grey stone with a loud thump, drawing a hiss from all of the spiders around him. The sound of their crunching, Andrew realized, came from their teeth. The spiders around him were not like the spiders that he had previously encountered, for their keratin teeth were all much more larger.

And they dripped of a green venom.

“Oh no, I am not getting paralyzed today!” Andrew was half-tempted to throw the stallion to the spiders and make a break for it, but he wasn’t about to let a pony die, not on his hands. The spiders slowly began to encroach on Andrew and the unconscious stallion.

He had to figure out a plan, and fast.

"Leg’s injured, adrenaline’s fading, it’s too dark beneath the canopy to see a clear path out." Andrew’s mind was thrown into full throttle as the spiders began feinting him, their lunges only making the full distance halfway. A flash to an old memory took its place in Andrew’s mind, and though the idea felt incredibly stupid, he felt that it was his best option here. He’d only seen his friends that had interests in American football doing it, and while he had no protective gear on, there wasn’t much else for him left to do.

Bracing his shoulder, Andrew let out a roar and bum-rushed the spiders with his shoulder held out forward.

The spiders were thoroughly surprised at Andrew’s willingness to charge them. Most of them jumped out of the way, but one of them stayed behind to try and gnash at Andrew’s shoulder: it immediately took the brunt of Andrew’s weight. Apparently, everything in this world weighed much less than Andrew, for the giant spider went flying upon contact with Andrew’s shoulder. As soon as Andrew was clear of the spiders, he went deeper into the forest: the pegasi were waiting outside in the sky, and he would be stupid to believe that they weren’t.

As Andrew ran further into the woods, he made sure to keep his eyes peeled for anymore spiders. He could hear them crunching their teeth together and skittering behind him. Fortunately, Andrew also seemed able to outpace the spiders. It finally made sense to him why the chaotic side of nature had injured his leg; it was Andrew’s greatest weapon against the world. Pain peeled back into Andrew’s mind at a rather inopportune time. He brought the stallion to his chest and rolled down yet another cliff, this time making sure to keep what limbs he could close to his body. He rolled for a good while, and by the end of the roll, Andrew’s adrenaline had finally left him.

The first thing that Andrew did upon his halt was let the stallion drop from his hands and onto the stone ground. The second thing that Andrew did was crawl over to the side, hold himself up, and vomit over a smaller ledge below him. Wiping the barf that remained around his mouth with the back of his hand, Andrew slipped his pack off and checked it over quickly: a metallic plink had been going on and off during his roll. Thankfully, the thermos seemed to only be scratched and battered, nothing new to its already worn condition. His also pack remained free of holes. Realizing that the chittering spiders had stopped making noise, Andrew looked up and held his burning leg.

The spiders stared down at Andrew in silence. It was unnerving, to say the least. They quickly receded back over the edge, causing Andrew to heave both a painful and relieved sigh. Looking over to the pegasus lying near him, Andrew shook his head.

“Idiot.”

Nearby, a faint glint of light blue light caught Andrew’s eye. The two had fallen before the mouth of a cave. It was not a full cavern, however, as only a small portion of the rock had weather away. In its wake, however, Andrew spotted an eerily familiar sight.

A bright blue, shimmering, clear pool of water.

Groaning, Andrew stood and limped over to the pegasus. There was no clear injury to the pegasus, but Andrew suspected there to be bruising all over the pegasus’ sides. He pulled him up carefully: the two may have been enemies, but Andrew wasn’t going to let a pony be mortally wounded on his part. With a grunt in each aching step, Andrew dragged the pegasus and himself over to the pool.

Andrew only held faint visions of the pool’s purpose, but trial and error would serve him well enough. He set the pegasus down by the pool, then lifted one of his black hooves to the pool slowly. On contact with the pool, a small trail of crimson began to leak from the hoof. Andrew pulled the hoof away, causing the trail to be severed. After an inspection of the stallion’s hoof, Andrew noted that there wasn’t any actual blood on the stallion. He put the hoof back in the strange water, causing the trail to begin anew.

After an agonizing minute of watching the stallion twitch and shiver, Andrew gave in to an unseen pressure and dipped a hand in. The water was cool, and amazingly, refreshing to the touch. He felt reinvigorated, albeit slightly, just by touching the water. A stupid grin came to Andrew’s face.

He had an idea.

Andrew went to take off the steel toe boot on his right leg, but got a better idea instead. Andrew could care less for the circumstances; the water was great, and he was tired. So very tired. Andrew began to strip his clothes off.

When he was left wearing nothing but his boxers, Andrew lifted the black pegasus up and lowered them both into the pool cautiously. Immediately, Andrew felt the multiple bruises and cuts that adorned his body soothed by the water. His skin seemed to drink in the liquid, and as Andrew lifted a hand out of the water to inspect it, he saw a rather large cut doing just that. He let the absorbing hand drip down back into the water and felt his right leg’s calf. The strained muscles would have already been healed within the next few days, but Andrew could feel days worth of healing passing by, just like that.

Things were still running at full speed through Andrew’s mind. Everything happened so quickly in this land. Everything was so simply solved, no peace ever held for too long, no calm ever without a storm. Everything was just… just…

Magical.

After over a week of being trapped in a magical land of ponies, hydras, dragons, spiders, snake chickens, buffalo, intelligent squirrels, and even more creatures, it finally clicked into Andrew’s mind what exactly he had gotten himself involved in.

Somehow, somewhere, Andrew had managed to slip himself into a magical land of fantasy.

He sank deeper into the water and laid his head back, a slow chuckle rising from the back of his throat. The answer to everything was just so plain and simple. Nothing had been complicated at all about the world, for all Andrew had to say to reach his answer was simply, ‘magic.’

Understanding was all Andrew had wanted to reach. Now? He had it. He really had it all. The meaning would have come slower to him, but the new revelation had immediate effects. He knew that he was not on Earth anymore, he knew what the land wanted from him, he knew that he had a larger role to play in even further lands, and he knew what he was dealing with.

'So,' Andrew asked himself, 'what do I do now?'

The pegasus in his arms let out a grumble and pawed at Andrew’s chest adorably.

“You know what?” Andrew ran a hand through the pegasus’ mane. “I want to find more ponies like you.” He sighed and leant his head back again. “Despite your horrible attitude towards me, it’s your fault that this whole new realm of knowledge has been revealed to me. But you know what?”

The pegasus chose that moment to yawn and awaken. He bristled at the sudden contact and stared wide-eyed up at Andrew, but was surprised to find Andrew smiling down at him with what felt like an incredibly misplaced smile of kindness, but Andrew wasn’t dishonest, he was truly happy.

“Ponies like you could use a little bit of friendship.” He pat the thoroughly confused stallion on the back and shut his eyes. “I would say the world knows that it needs more love, but here…”

Andrew sat up, a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m the only one who really knows that, aren’t I?”

27 - Baths

Baths

It wasn’t too long before the pegasus came back to his senses in Andrew’s grip. Chuckling, Andrew managed to hold down the pegasus against his chest. The stallion whinnied furiously, hooves swinging wildly around. A stray hoof caught the teenager in the side of the cheek, but it was so weak that it was virtually unnoticeable.

“Sorry bud, but I can’t really let you go back to your friends.” Groaning, Andrew stood out of the water, dripping with the refreshing liquid. As much as he wanted to enjoy the first true opportunity for a bath in over a week, he had to deal with more pressing matters.

“Let me go!”

“Hold on, I’m trying to figure out how to keep you still…” Andrew’s eyes flicked between his dry clothes and the pegasus. Sighing, he rubbed his head with his free hand. “Guess I’ll just have to do this one handed.”

What normally would have taken a minute for Andrew to dress became an agonizing fifteen minutes of pain. Not true, physical pain, but emotionally-burdening psychological pain.

“Please!” he huffed, swatting the pegasus on the back of his head again. “I’m so close to being done with this. I just need to put on my shirt and shoes and then we’ll be good!” An idea popped into Andrew’s as the pegasus continued to struggle in his grasp. Acting swiftly, he dropped the pegasus down onto all fours and wrapped a hand around the muzzle of the pony. The pegasus immediately froze.

“You good, bud?”

The pegasus looked at the hand around his muzzle, then looked up to Andrew, his hooves unnervingly still.

“Oookay then.” Keeping his hand on the pegasus’ muzzle, the teenager began to slide his shirt on. One hand slipped into its sleeve, then Andrew switched the hands holding onto the pegasus’ muzzle and tucked his other arm through its respective hole. He then went to work on his shoes. Once the steel toe were secured once more, he loosely slung his hiking pack over his right shoulder and hefted the pegasus up by the stomach, making sure to keep his hand clamped down tightly on the pony’s black muzzle. Andrew ran his thumb across the top of the pegasus’ muzzle, causing the pony’s face to scrunch up.

The teenager giggled childishly. ‘Note to self, verify if the hypothesis that if a hand is placed on a pony’s muzzle, then the pony will go docile, is true.’

Andrew waddled a little further away from the pool, and was pleasantly surprised to find that his leg felt fine. In his struggle with the pegasus when emerging from the water, he had completely forgotten to check the wrapping on his leg, but strangely enough, it felt as if the wrapping had gone, replaced by the frayed leg hairs that had lain forgotten beneath. He made a mental note of the pool and what it looked like, then looked for a way out of the pit the two had tumbled down into.

It was still night, which was obvious due to Andrew and the pegasus’ five minute soak. A check of his watch told him that it was only seven at night: a mere quarter-hour since the ambush. Truth be told, Andrew was cautious about leaving the safety of the pit, because the spiders apparently could not be asked to follow him down into the area despite the true lack of cover or natural protections. Spotting a slope that led right up and out of the pit in the earth, Andrew threw a glance back at the pool and stared.

If Harmony ever appeared again, he was definitely going to ask her what was going on with the water.

The pegasus in the teenager's arms began to shudder: whether it was from the cold or an intense ominous feeling, Andrew didn’t know. Andrew did pull the pegasus closer, albeit only slightly; he was still a bit peeved about the pony eating his fish earlier in the week. And attacking him twice. And setting fire to his bag. Yes, just a tad peeved.

The pegasus’ ears were cocked at the ready, listening carefully for any trace of the spiders. Scarily enough, the woods were silent. Andrew did his best to avoid any fallen leaves or twigs that could alert any nearby predators as he carved a path back out of the forests. There was no doubt in his mind that the pegasi would be waiting outside, but Andrew was sure that Blackie had a plan in mind.

Deeper in the words, the horrible crunching of the spiders’ teeth could be heard. Andrew sucked in a breath and kept moving, his pace quickening only slightly. He was determined to be back to the river to find out what had happened to the four pegasi that Blackie had sent out for fish, and desperate to drop off his newly gained prisoner back at the camp. Eyeing the pegasus in his arms, Andrew thought about the creature as it helplessly stared right back up at him.

“You… are a terrible person,” Andrew muttered, quickly picking up pace again. “You’re definitely a jerk, but I’m gonna give you a chance. I don’t need you hurting other ponies, or me for that matter, but I don’t want to see you get hurt either.”

The pegasus snorted and tried to move his head. Smiling at the entrapped creature, the teenager kept his hand clamped down on the bulky pegasus’ muzzle and looked forward.

The edge of the wood was within sight now, but as Andrew approached it, eager to escape the silent forest, he felt a strange wave pass over him. It made him stop and shiver, and any attempts that he made to move resulted in zero response from his limbs. As soon as the wave had passed over Andrew, the pegasus in his arms had immediately gone still, the pony’s nostrils soon turning to sleepy snorts.

‘What the?’

Andrew’s eyes could still move, however. He was able to easily spot the river and hill he had been standing on due to the rise of the moon. A black figure was visible on the top of the hill, and it was quickly joined by a couple of other figures: a unicorn, an earth pony, and two pegasi, one with their wings flared wide. Upon seeing the black figure extend its wings in the distance, Andrew realized that it was Blackie. Andrew’s view was blocked by the trees, but he was able to catch a glimpse of the five pegasi that were apart of the traitorous pegasus alpha’s group.

The wave of paralysis disappeared for him, and so he lurched forward out of the woods.

Andrew stared back at the woods and kept walking away. ‘That must’ve been the thing that made the ponies fall asleep earlier. Weird.’ He sighed and looked forward again. ‘Another thing to worry about later.’

Andrew began moving toward the two groups of ponies, now with an unconscious leader in his hands. Seeing the herd of rogue pegasi reminded him of where he had left them a few days prior: whimpering, and with a broken leader. Suddenly, something clicked into place in Andrew’s mind. The pegasus in his hands was definitely the same alpha that he had grounded prior via wing injury, but the pegasus had been flying perfectly fine just minutes before.

The ponies knew about the pools that could heal, there was no doubt about it. Andrew had been brought to one after injuring his leg, and that had healed most of his cuts and abrasions, but his leg had still remained partly disabled. The question now: how come his leg felt better after sitting in the water now?

The answer was simple, Andrew found; his right leg had been sitting out of the water.

Andrew’s herd saw him approaching, and a unicorn came up to meet him. The unicorn, surprisingly enough, was Lemon. He took notice of the black alpha in the Bushkeeper's hands with wide eyes. Andrew said nothing, simply allowing Lemon to lead him over to the two parties that were waiting for him. Storm was the other pegasus that did not have her wings flared, and the earth pony turned out to be Brownie’s brother, the orange stallion with the vibrant red mane.

‘Orange,’ Andrew named immediately. ‘Dude’s bright as day.’

It was true, for amongst the mostly dark colored pegasi, as well as the ponies back at camp, Orange and Lemon were perhaps the most brightly colored ponies in all of the herds. The unnamed white pegasus and unicorn mares were the runners-up for the title of brightest pony, but Orange and Lemon were definitely the most eye-catching.

Andrew shook his head and looked to the traitorous pegasi. They cowered in fear under his gaze; seeing their alpha go down due to Andrew again must have been quite demoralizing.

Storm trotted over weakly and place a hoof on the black alpha’s head. Andrew released his muzzle, allowing the herd leader to inspect him more carefully. She sucked in a deep breath, and instead of the slap that Andrew had been expecting, gave a soft nuzzle to the stallion’s neck, then stepped back. Storm stared over the keeling pegasi before her. Andrew, still carrying the black alpha, walked over to where Lemon and Orange stood watching. Patting the latter on the withers once, Andrew listened in on the speech that Storm had just begun to present.

“Cloudmasters, winged ones… traitors.” Storm shakily took a breath. Blackie rushed over to support her, but she waved him off and continued. “I am very disappointed in all of you.”

One stallion lunged forward with a cry, “Please, forgive us, fwalfa!”

“Storm.” She repeated her name again, “Storm.”

“Storm… fwalfa, we… we…”

“Save your pitiful excuse for later. Tell me...” Despite her weakened state, Andrew found himself intimidated by the glowing coals of Storm’s voice as she leant down to the stallion lying at her hooves. “Tell me where our herd has gone…”

“The cave! The eastern cave!” he whimpered, hooves over his eyes. “They are unharmed, bound with the grass of—”

“Are you loyal?!”

Andrew jumped in surprise at the magnitude of Storm’s voice.

‘Good god this mare can get loud!’

The stallion was stumbling over his words at this point, an act seeming incomprehensible due to the style of the pony language. “Ye… yes! Yes! Y-yes fwalfa! I will never de… betr… leave you again!” The pegasi behind the stallion all shared the same reaction and pleas of loyalty.

“Then retrieve my herd,” Storm growled.

In a flash of dust, the pegasi had lifted off and begun soaring towards the aforementioned east.

Andrew wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, and said to Storm, “Storm, lower the volume for next time, will ya?”

The mare opened her mouth, then shook her head instead.

Blackie laid a hoof on his mate and gave a curt nod to the quiet teenager. “Lead us back to the herds, Bushkeeper.”

Andrew smiled. ‘At least they’re learning how to use English.’

The Bushkeeper turned and began leading the ponies back to the west. From the hill he was standing on, he could see the glint of a campfire in the distance. The party of six was silent for the most part, but Andrew could hear Storm breathing heavily behind him. A thought struck Andrew in that moment. He laid the black pegasus on Orange’s back, producing no reaction from the earth pony. Sliding his hiking pack off, the teenager then laid it on top of Greeny, much to the stallion’s displeasure, and then began to take off his shirt. He wasn’t sure if it would work for Storm, but he would try it anyway: his shirt had become soaked due to his inability to dry off after leaving the healing pool.

Storm eyed Andrew warily as he approached her. “Bushkeeper, what are you…?”

A surprisingly large amount of water came splashing out of his shirt as he wringed it out. The mare shivered as the cyan liquid passed over her, but from the smile that appeared on her face, it was clear that something had worked.

“You… you had the cleared water within you.” Storm traced a hoof carefully over Andrew’s pale stomach, much to his embarrassment. Storm didn’t seem to notice, however. She looked up at him, hoof struggling to reach his chest. “Thank you… Andrew.”

A tear threatened to escape the teenager's eye, but he shrugged it off. Instead, he smiled warmly. “You’re welcome, Storm.”

After putting his shirt and hiking pack back on, and retrieving the unconscious pegasus from Orange’s back, Andrew continued to walk west.

Author's Note

Slow paced chapter to build up for an even slower paced chapter. Then, we put on the speed.

28 - Songs

Songs

Andrew wasn’t sure what was up between Storm and the black alpha. Was it even right to call the pegasus an alpha anymore? He was back within the confines of the pegasus herd, and Blackie was technically the herd’s alpha, wasn’t he?

Storm was currently lying down next to the stallion and using the campfire at the center of the camp to dry herself off at the same time. Andrew himself had settled down with Mint and Greeny near the edge of the light, right next to the berry bushes. It had only been a few minutes since their arrival, and Andrew was sure that the pegasi would follow soon enough.

“I’m not sure sending the traitors out to pick up our pegasi is a good idea…”

Mint snorted and nosed another berry out from the pouch Andrew had set aside. The smell of fish had never been washed away, but the blueberries had most certainly overpowered the scent anyway. Greeny, for his part, simply continued to carve into the keratin tooth. Andrew wasn’t sure how Greeny managed to carve it with teeth alone, or even managed to find space to carve new art in for that matter, but it wasn’t his place to ask. All Andrew had to do was keep the ponies safe. His eyes flicked over to the black pegasus.

Keeping them safe from themselves was a good place as any to start.

Groaning, Andrew lifted himself upwards. He dug around for a moment and pulled out his hoodie. After sliding the article on, Andrew dug his hands in the front pockets and wandered over to where Storm and the fish-stealing thief lay. He cleared his throat politely and crouched down beside them. Storm looked up to Andrew and smiled weakly.

“Do not blame him for what he has done—” she nuzzled the black pegasus “—my son only wanted to prove my mate wrong.”

Intrigued, Andrew settled into a comfortable spot beside the grey mare. The quietly snoring black pegasus shuffled a bit at the movement, but otherwise remained still and asleep.

“We feared that the past frost moon would not leave enough food for the flock to survive on throughout the snowy days. We separated after a long argument, my son trying for the ideal that he could lead the flock better than the falfa could. Much of the flock agreed with him, most seeing him as stronger and less frail than my aging mate.”

Storm whinnied sadly and lowered her head. “It is obvious now that my son can lead, but he is not truly prepared for such an endeavor.”

“I heard him in the Great Open. He cried for his flock to not attack, but attack they did. Blood was their undoing, for the moment my life force began to drip was the moment that he felt conflict. His flock was quick to retreat on his order, but the damage had already been done. It is clear that his flock sought revenge on the ponies who had injured their leader, but do not blame yourself, Bushkeeper.” Storm leveled the teenager with a gentle smile. “I know what you did. You simply were defending yourself. There would have been no other way to go around this situation; it was inevitable.”

“I wish that I had taught him more before he left us long ago… but I am thankful to see that he has survived the past frost moon. So many moons spent without his gatherers and passion by our side. I am glad to see he has not proven my mate wrong, for if he had, my son would live no longer: he never gained true loyalty from his flock, only respect wrought of brutality's way. Fear is not respect.”

Andrew ran his thumb over the bridge of Storm’s son’s muzzle, causing his nose to twitch slightly. A question that had been rising from his throat was intercepted by Storm in the winds of fate.

“It was only mere days ago that I had seen him for the first time since.” Storm had a nostalgic grin on her face. “He has not changed in the slightest.”

“So he has not, for he is still a traitor.” Andrew looked up at Blackie as he stepped over. He frowned deeply at his son on the ground. “I thought I had raised him to be better… to be a better falfa.” Blackie turned to Andrew, eyes thick with regret. “I did not teach him enough of respect, it seems. Not even his flock has benefited from any teachings, for they have shown no respect for my son, only fear.” Blackie lowered his head down to his son and gave a brief, but meaningful nuzzle. “And that is my fault.”

“My mate,” Storm cooed. “Blackie… please lay with me.”

Blackie complied. Andrew found himself wedged between two fuzzy little ponies. He slid back to allow them to grow closer, but Storm stopped him with a hoof.

“It was our fault, falfa… We did the best that we could to prepare him for his life…”

“And look how he has spread.” Blackie eyed his son sadly. “He is—”

“He is exactly like you when you were young, my mate.”

Blackie’s ears flicked towards his mate.

“He is strong, sturdy, and impassioned like his father.” Storm draped her neck across her son’s back and shut her eyes. “He will grow to be a fine stallion, one day. He will learn now, Blackie, learn how to be a true leader of his own. We will teach him alongside his mistakes, help him remember respect and the cloudmasters, remember his connection to his ancestors. He will grow to his full potential under our teachings, and with his potential, he will accomplish great things with his flock. Then… then we will let him free.

Blackie blinked in surprise. “Let him free?”

“He has a flock of his own, my mate.” Storm sat up and smiled warmly at Blackie. “His wings cry to be stretched, to be used for flight, to be used to soar across the Great Open in search of a new home. He is like you from many moons ago… a strong, handsome stud, his herd, and his desire to find a mate…”

Again, Andrew went to leave, but found his knees used as a meeting place for the two lovestruck ponies. They laid their heads over Andrew’s legs and nibbled at each others ears, tugging gently in loving motions. Andrew sighed and leant back to stare up at the night sky.

Like every night prior, the sky was nearly cloudless, allowing an unobstructed view of its magnificence. He found himself connecting the stars again, and quickly found his favorite constellation that he’d discovered: the flower. There was something truly beautiful about the dozens of stars that formed its fantastic shape, and Andrew was glad that he could appreciate such beauty in his lifetime. Never would he have ever imagined seeing such a lovely night of velvet for over a week, over and over.

Then, Andrew spotted something.

He was partially distracted by the two ponies expressing their love for each other across his knees, but it was easy to grab his attention from the stars. Every now and then, he’d see a pulse in the sky: a quick flash of light that seemed almost unnoticeable. He finally managed to spot one, and as the light faded, it revealed a lovely purple star that stared down at him. There was another flash, and another, and another. The more Andrew followed them, the more of a shape began to form. By the time Andrew had past his fiftieth pulsar, the shape had truly formed. His eyes traced between the lines again and again. He slid his legs out from underneath the ponies and watched on in awe.

A story was being carved before his very eyes on a canvas of velvet bone.

The constellation of the keratin tooth was obvious. Andrew scrambled over to where Greeny sat, his intuition pumping vividly through his mind. The stallion was carving furiously by now, and Andrew was glad that he had followed his gut. He collapsed next to the stallion and lay his head in the sweet grass to get as close a look as possible of the stallion’s work. Greeny ignored Andrew and continued to work furiously. Even his horn seemed to be participating in the carving process as it glowed with its green aura.

Mint and Greeny had not managed to get Andrew to memorize the pony alphabet, but from what Andrew could see, there was a quite long epic being written. The images were so tiny it seemed almost impossible that Greeny was able to write into the bone. The white band cracked and creaked with each indent that Greeny put into his work, continuing to amaze Andrew with his otherworldly masterwork. Greeny was like a unicorn possessed, and after a full two minutes of carving at an extreme speed, Andrew could see muscles popping out of Greeny’s neck at him. The unicorn sat up and gave a proud whinny, pushing the keratin tooth Andrew’s way.

“It is almost complete, Bushkeeper.”

Andrew didn’t know what Greeny meant by that, he was far too occupied with looking at Greeny’s art.

Sprawling forests now helped to support the mountains in the back. A large glowing sun and prideful moon sat in the sky beside each other, small wisps of cloud and pegasi passing by with each stroke. Above the sky and into the white bands of decor came the writing. It stretch all across the tooth, repeated once more beneath the land at the bottom of the tooth. There was an entire sea of ponies that flooded the entire bottom of the tooth now, and after a long time of attempting to discern its meaning, Andrew finally picked up on it.

There were more than just ponies in the image, there were so many more species.

He rolled the tooth over once in the hands, then returned to the biped standing in the center of the giant crowd. Andrew stared at his smiling face in the keratin. He smiled back.

“Writing,” Andrew said, tapping with his index finger on the beautiful pictograms at the top of the tooth. “Writing.”

Andrew had hoped that his plan would work, that Greeny would be able to read his writing aloud for Andrew to understand and admire.

But what came from Greeny’s mouth was unlike what Andrew had ever expected.

It began as a low hum, a throbbing baritone that Andrew did not think Greeny capable of. Mint had been munching on a berry, but slowed to a halt and swallowed. She began to hum as well, a quiet alto that soon gave way to a bursting rhythm. Andrew suddenly realized that the rhythm had come as a byproduct of other unicorns surrounding them joining into the newly formed choir.

Standing, Andrew looked around.

The pegasi soon began to join in, helping to add to the ever increasing crescendo of music that graced his ears. They held the most altos of all the ponies in the area, as well as the most tenors. Joining into that came the earth ponies, who brought the most beautiful baritone tones that Andrew did not even think possible. Something began to build inside of Andrew as a song weaved back and forth in the camp. The crackle of the fire was gone, the crickets of the night were gone, the gentle breeze passing by was gone, all that remained now was the music of the ponies.

It was a strange, fleeting feeling. As if in a fever-dream, Andrew felt himself an inch off the ground, a cocoon of ribboned light passing all around him in a cone. The song around him was reaching its peak quickly, and the ribbons slid from one color to another as the pace increased. Then, with Greeny holding a long, baritone note that echoed above the rest of the other held notes, Andrew felt himself begin to lead the choir. Words came from his mouth that were completely foreign to him. They sounded pony, yet carried an air of humanity to them. There was something symphonic and angelic to the words despite their lack of meaning, and without being able to help himself, Andrew felt a tear drip down his cheek. As the song began to die down into its blissful ending, Andrew dropped back down to the ground lightly, released from his binding.

He felt himself over and attempted to understand what had just happened to him. His hands roamed his chest and legs as he searched for understanding, but all he could find on himself in the wavering voices of the ponies around was the idea that he had just experienced the first of many of the musical experiences. As the ponies came down from their high as well, an excited blabber of thoughts and conversations in the usual pony language came through. Pegasi, earth pony, and unicorn alike came together to share their excitement in the event that had just transpired.

Andrew listened carefully for what was being spoken, but all he could hear was the flapping of wings as the gathering party returned from its long disappearance.

So, doing just as what any normal human being that was starved for food would do in any situation, Andrew ignored the strange event that had taken place and rushed east to meet with the ponies, the smell of fish wafting through the air as their fish filled hooves came near.

After all, singing can take a lot out of a person.

Author's Note

Written in 1 hour because rush B choo choo

30 - Breaks

Breaks

“Bushkeeper—”

“Andrew.”

The white pegasus mare nodded and took another breath. “Andrew...May we take a break?”

The teenager looked out over the ponies strewn about the field, all exhibiting blank looks on their faces. He couldn’t blame them, though, thirty minutes straight of repeating foreign words was probably incredibly tiring to them. To Andrew, however, he was extremely excited to be teaching the ponies English. There was something heartwarming about hearing the ponies speak his language and their clear desire to get better at enunciations.

Andrew didn’t nod as he spoke. “Yes.” He was testing the ponies’ abilities to remember their quick lesson, and was glad to see that they picked up on the word. Most of them bound off to stop by the river or munch on the apples over yonder, but a few of them stayed behind. Andrew suspected that they weren’t there to learn more English, and he was right.

“Bushkeeper,” began one of the unicorns, “We would like to discuss the future with you, if that is not too much to ask.” Andrew opened his mouth, but was cut off by the stallion. “We only bring simple questions for you to answer.”

“Oh, well in that case…” The teenager sat down, followed closely by the ponies.

The stallion’s eyes flickered over to an earth pony mare next to him. She looked fearfully between Andrew and the unicorn, then spoke up in the quietest voice that Andrew could imagine. “Will… will you protect us?”

The Bushkeeper nodded eagerly. “Of course, yes.”

The cream-coated earth pony gave a meek nod and gentle smile. “Good… I fear for the foals, but I believe that you can help us with them.”

“Do you want to eat us?!”

All the ponies, Andrew included, stared at the midnight pegasus mare. She too, like the white pegasus a minute prior, had also helped carry the teenager to the Great Green on light wings.

“Er, no?”

“We’ll take that as a yes,” the blue stallion muttered, eyeing the mare strangely.

That left Andrew with three other ponies who could ask questions; the unicorn stallion, a white unicorn mare, and the foal of said unicorn mare.

‘Wait, a foal?’

“Play?” the foal asked, clambering atop his mother to stare at Andrew.

The teenager chortled softly and picked up the foal. “Sure, buddy.” He ruffled the colt’s mane and looked to the unicorn stallion. The mother seemed quite pleased to see her child receiving the human’s attention.

“I have an actual question, Bushkeeper. Will you be able to survive the frost moon?”

“You know, I’m not too sure.” Andrew slowed his scritching of the colt in his lap and thought a little bit. “I might be able to, but if my hunger continues to be a big problem, then my best bet would be hanging out with a bear before winter.” Another pause. “Actually, that’s not too far-fetched.”

The stallion blinked. “I’m afraid I didn’t understand a word of what you said, Bushkeeper.”

“Andrew, call me Andrew. Yes, I will be able to live.”

“Wonderful, now—”

“Can you fight, Bushkeeper?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

The white mother caught Andrew’s questioning tone. “Can you fight the monsters of fwafwa, Bushkeeper?”

This was a whole new category to the teenager, and he certainly did not like the name of fwafwa monster. He shook his head slowly. “No. I have no idea what that is.”

The unicorn stallion stood and nodded urgently. “That is a good point. We must teach the Bushkeeper our lessons about the land.”

Before Andrew could have a say in anything, the rest of the ponies stood and bowed, giving their goodbyes. All of them wandered off to join their herds elsewhere for their break, all except for one tiny pony in Andrew’s arms.

“Welp, I’ve got you now.” The Bushkeeper waggled a finger in front of the cradled foal’s muzzle. The colt giggled again and waved at the appendage.

“Play!” he cooed.

“You’re old enough to speak, yet you look like you’re a year old.” Andrew shrugged. “Oh well, I’m not the one calling the shots on whether or not Earth’s laws apply to this world, that’s the gods’ problem.”

He carried the foal down to the river, prodding him playfully all the while. The coos of the colt brought the attention of the nearby Mint. The azure mare and Greeny trotted over, both with warm smiles on their faces. Andrew extended the foal out to them, his hands hooked under the colt’s forehooves.

“Yo, check out this thing. It’s adorable.”

Mint leant forward to nuzzle the foal’s belly, and the colt latched on immediately. She froze as the colt threw his hooves all over her muzzle and struggled forward in an attempt to free himself from Andrew’s grasp.

“Play, play!” he cried.

Mint blew a raspberry into the colt’s sensitive belly, causing the child to begin squeaking. She pulled away with a giggle, but not before leaving behind another nuzzle for the colt.

“See? Told ya!”

“Do you know how to play with a foal, Andrew?” Yet again, the teenager was amazed with the speed at which Mint was able to pronounce his name. It came out smoothly now, without the normal croak of the other ponies that could speak some English words.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Place the colt on my mate.”

Greeny pulled back suddenly. “What? I don’t want to be apart of this again!”

Unfortunately for the stallion, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

After being plopped down on Greeny’s back, the foal immediately darted into the stallion’s mane and hid. The unicorn resigned himself to his fate and sat down. Mint moved forward, muzzle mere inches away from where the colt sat. A tiny white hoof thrust out at her and bopped her on the muzzle. Smiling, the mare returned the gesture in kind, causing a shrill yip from the colt as he scrambled away further into Greeny’s mane.

Andrew watched with rapt attention as a hybrid game of hide and seek and tag began to take place in the stallion’s black mane. One of the colt’s hooves would dart out in an attempt to bop Mint’s snout, but the mare would dodge the attack. Sometimes, the opposite would hold true, and the colt would be able to dodge a prod to the nose. Andrew didn’t really know why Greeny had been used as a resting place for the colt, but it was probably just to include the stallion in somehow. Plus, the colt was much smaller than the mare, it would be unfair for her to be towering over the young foal.

The comparatively tall teenager, however, definitely could play unfair.

He butt into the pair’s game with perfect timing, prodding the tiny pony gentle on the muzzle through the use of his long arms and a pointed finger. The colt paused as Andrew left his finger to sit there, his eyes trained on the teenager. The Bushkeeper held back a giggle as the colt began swatting a forehoof pitifully at his hand’s wrist. Mint killed Andrew’s fun after a moment or two of the bullying, pushing the teenager’s arm away carefully. She fixed him with a frown.

“That was not very nice.”

Andrew stood and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I suppose that was. Sorry.”

Mint loosened up a little bit at the teenager’s apologetic movements. “Let the foal have a taste of revenge.”

Sighing pleasantly, Andrew crouched down again and put his face right before the colt. The white unicorn foal reached a hoof out hesitantly, then set it on his nose. The Bushkeeper went cross eyed as he stared at the hoof, prompting a giggle from all involved parties. Except for the stallion being ignored, of course. Greeny stared up at the two above him with a roll of his eyes; he was being sorely left out of the fun.

Andrew took notice, however. He hefted the foal back up and handed him off to Mint, who took the tiny creature eagerly. Ignoring the sounds of joy beside him, Andrew sat down and pulled Green into his lap forcefully. The stallion gave a cry of surprise, but a hand wrapped around his muzzle suppressed it immediately. Like the reaction of Storm’s second son, Greeny was confused and a bit angry at having his muzzle restrained. The stallion couldn’t wiggle out of the tight hold that the human had on him, and so was left to the will of Andrew.

“You’ve got some dirty fur, my friend.” The teenager flicked a bit of dirt off the stallion to emphasize his point.

Greeny grumbled something under his breath, but was unable to get another word through.

After about a minute of sitting there drawing his hands through the stallion’s dirty mane and coat, Andrew was joined by Mint, the mare suddenly foal-less. The teenager watched the white foal he’d been playing with scamper up the hill to his mother and the other foals, but turned his attention to Mint soon after. The mare crawled into the little space that remained in Andrew’s lap and snuggled in beside Greeny. Shaking his head at the adorable sight, the Bushkeeper found himself swapping between the two with his free hand’s scritches.

Another short time passed with the sound of ponies playing on the hills and others splashing in the stream. Andrew flicked an eye over to said ponies in the stream, and it gave him an idea. He hooked his free hand under Mint, and did the same with the hand on Greeny’s muzzle. The stallion snorted immediately upon the release of his muzzle.

“Don’t do that!”

“Well, if you’re gonna be like that, then you’re going to have to suffer through this next bit...” Andrew waddled over to the stream, and with as much care as he could offer, dropped the two ponies into the cool water.

Both ponies were equally surprised at the action, but despite their splashing and flailing, Andrew did not let them go. Mint calmed down shortly after, so the human saw fit to let her go first. She gave a calm neigh and prodded Greeny’s still flailing side.

“He wishes for us to clean.”

Andrew was glad that Mint took notice of the large amount of dirt that clung to the stallion’s body, and was happier to see that Mint took it upon herself to dip down into the shallow stream and clean herself. The teenager knew that Greeny would definitely not wash himself, so he got to work scrubbing the dirt away the best he could with hands and running river water.

Greeny’s incessant yelling called over some of the ponies from their own activities. The earth ponies came first, and upon seeing the situation in the stream, wisely chose to leave; they had more in common with the dirt in their fur, after all. Most of the pegasi and unicorns, however, came down to the stream and eyed the party of three. The unicorns quickly joined in with their herd leader in washing themselves, and the pegasi seemed to already have the art of bathing in a stream down to an art, their bathing methods sending spouts of water high into the air and onto their fur. It amazed Andrew that the ponies knew the basics of hygiene at such a level, but he suspected it was more to do with the presentation of their coats: many of the lighter-coated ponies were being extra careful with their fur.

The ponies around began to splash at each other in the stream, leaving Andrew laughing at the water fight that ensued and Greeny’s predicament: Greeny remained trapped in the human’s grasp, unable to wash himself, or even defend himself from the water that splashed him in the eyes.

Groaning, the stallion lay his head in the water and resigned himself to the scrubbing and splashing of Andrew and the ponies. He’d dealt with worse in his lifetime, but still…

“This was a mistake,” he whickered with weakened exasperation.

31 - Stories

Stories

After two hours of solid work with his ponies, Andrew felt satisfied with their progress in learning English. Following a weak attempt at sending the ponies off via hand gestures, he bent down to see what the problem was.

“We promised to teach you of the lands,” the white pegasus mother neighed.

Andrew blinked. “Oh, that’s what this is about?”

The blue unicorn stallion stepped up next. “Please let us teach you, Bushkeeper.” He gave a gentle smile. “We have much knowledge of the world that may be brought to you.”

Shrugging, the teenager waved his hand. “Lead on.”

And so off they went.

As the herd left the all too literal pony pasture, they passed by the shelter that the earth ponies had been hard at work digging out. A couple of the earth ponies in the working herd stopped by to talk briefly with their departing brothers and sisters, and so Andrew took the time to inspect the ponies’ efforts. The dugout looked nearly identical to the one that he had seen near the beginning of the previous week, though this one seemed fairly larger. The hill they had chosen to carve into was actually quite well selected; it was located right at the top of the bumpy terrain, and had a smooth slope out front that led straight down to the river at an easy angle.

Soon enough, the ponies and Andrew were back to walking around the wide plains and forests.

The earth ponies talked a lot about the land around them. Every blade had an important role to play in the grand scheme of life, and every leaf on each tree was significant to the story of the soil. Andrew found that the words of the earth ponies came wise, storytelling, and fortified with the roles that everything had to play in the world around them. They told him stories of the yellow grass and how it sustained an entire valley at one point. They told him stories of each crack in the earth and how they wood grow to be wide caverns full of life. They told him stories about the worms, the crickets, the birds, the field mice, and the bees that lived off the land and nourished it in return. They told him stories for every oak, birch, and pine and how their branches would support the earth and air in harmony.

The pegasi told stories of their own. Andrew was brought into a world of bravery, friendship, and the harsh circumstances that every being was imparted with. They told him tales of the sky and how its blue would allow another day to pass in bliss. They told him tales of the clouds and how they roamed wild and required the cloudmasters to bring them to the earth. They told him tales of how the sun and moon wandered far beyond the sky, watching over each of the ponies and providing to them only the best of knowledge. They told tales of the tiny wisps of faint light that only the pegasi could see, and Andrew found that to be the most curious tale. Those tiny wisps of light, he was told, held the very fragments of the world together, and without their cooperation with the cloudmasters, the very seams of nature’s fwafwa would be nothing.

The unicorns shared with him their adventures amongst the land. They were the true travellers, as they had seen much of the world in its earliest times. They told of their true wish to share as much knowledge as they could amongst themselves, and now, the Bushkeeper. Their adventures told of how the fwafwa could be bent to the will of nature and support the life of every creature and thing in existence. Their adventures told of their long-imposing desire to find the high place to watch over the world for however long time moved and how close they were to reaching such a goal. Their adventures told of the magic pools that scattered the land and how the whispering natures of harmony itself would heal their wounds and bind their thoughts. Their adventures told of their struggle to get the sky gods’ attention so that they could bring all pegasi, earth ponies, and unicorns together into one supreme being, the pegacorn.

Andrew found himself enthralled by the ponies’ words, but he was smart enough to see each species’ interpretations of the world. Every story was not just about the land he stood in, but further more about the very fragments that formed their early societies of culture. From the pony tales Andrew saw that the earth ponies wanted to keep the land unified, and wanted to do everything in their power to keep the unicorns and pegasi from defiling the land with their own agendas. He saw that the pegasi wished to live alone with nature, but had yet to find a way to do so due to nature’s reliance upon the other pony species. From the unicorns came the knowledge that they wanted to be the only species left amongst the lands, watching, wandering, and ruling.

It was with their stories that Andrew saw the harsh truth of his existence in the magical land. It was far beyond Harmony’s agenda, the plan to keep the world stable in a time of chaos. He realized that he had been deceived, but not in the way he believed. The facts had been left out ever since his communication with one of the gods above, and now with those very facts in hand, Andrew realized the gravity of the situation.

The chaotic monsters of nature were not the true enemies to the ponies, the ponies were the enemies to themselves.

The Bushkeeper supposed that he should have seen this coming. Andrew prophesied what would come following his departure from the ponies; conflict. Though the ponies around him were simply the followers of their leaders, and subsequently, an early culture, he knew that fighting would begin within years following his leave from this land. The fire back to the south had only been a play of fate, thrown in to begin the journey towards the devastating pony conflicts. Andrew was the first step in this journey, because there was no unity amongst the ponies as of yet, but if a civilization were to arise under humanoid circumstance, there would most certainly be a reason to fight amongst themselves.

Sucking in a breath, the teenager nodded and thanked the blue unicorn for his story. Andrew needed time to reflect further over the unicorn’s words, for the solution to this abruptly known situation was nowhere in sight. Following this, however, he knew that one thing still needed to be done: if the ponies were to survive the cruel dice of fate, he would have to unify them. The consequences would come later, and in a brief stroke of pure intelligence, Andrew realized that he would never live long enough to see the ponies’ adventures through.

There was some bitter irony to all of this, but all Andrew could do was smile; he had better things to worry about than the future of ponykind.

So the teenager walked his ponies home.

Much work had to be done, still, and with their walk completed, Andrew gathered up all thirty-six of the ponies in his one, massive herd, and began to teach words again. It was like a field trip of sorts, where he went around and pointed every which way and named the world’s pawns. Over the span of eight hours, with breaks every so often, he felt that the ponies were well acquainted with their new words; trees, apples, water, grass, sky, sun, and most importantly, monster. Andrew was particularly proud with that development, his impression of the bear and the fear that it had caused in the foals was enough to tell the ponies what the word meant.

At around nine at night, the collective herd had managed to devour most of the apples in one part of the grove, dig out a shelter that snugly fit thirty-six ponies and a human, and learnt a little bit more about their biped leader’s language. With the help of Sparky and Andrew, some of the ponies even managed to learn how to strike fires of their own. Though they did not know the human’s true intentions in surrounding the camp with contained campfires, Andrew knew what he was doing; the light would keep the monsters away, he was sure of it. He also taught them that using flint and a rock was much less painful than using a hoof and flint to start a fire.

With that final revelation, Andrew settled down into the earthen alcove and drifted off, surrounding by the warm bodies of the ponies.

Dawn came almost too quickly for his liking, but the teenager had come to expect early wake-up calls due to his status of living with the ponies. They were quite the noisy sort, if the foals playing at six in the morning were anything to go by. So Andrew stood and set off to begin his day.

As he stepped out of the alcove, he realized that something had gone wrong in the night. The first sign was a trio consisting of each of the pony species staring at the dirt. The second sign were the tracks in said dirt. Something had come in the night and scrambled across the earth, but for what reason? The answer was bright as day; something bigger had come by. Andrew shivered and bent down, picking up the large patch of orange fur that sat beside the tracks. He didn’t know what kind of creature the fur belonged to, but he knew that it had to be dangerous.

So he put the earth ponies to work building a ditch.

With a few more games of charades, in which Andrew dug a pit in the earth and motioned repeatedly for the ponies to dig with him, the hornless were fast at work digging across the line that the human had drawn in the dirt. The remaining unicorns and pegasi were sent off to gather apples and a variety of vegetables for the ponies to fatten up on. Andrew knew how much they needed it; most of the ponies still showed bone through their fur. This left him with his small portion of ponies, as well as his thoughts on what to do with their time. He decided to do a bit of exploring and gathering.

The ponies set off north, where they found the land beside the river flatten out. Andrew noted that it would be a good place to farm, and then they moved on. Their journey evolved into a wide circle around the surrounding area, in which Andrew gathered a bountiful amount of vegetables, grain seeds, and a few interesting looking flowers into his hiking pack. They stopped by the large woods to the south for a time, if only to gather sticks for the Bushkeeper’s pack. The teenager feared that the spiders would still be around to attack them, but after discovering the location where he had first encountered the spiders during his brawl with the rogue pegasus, Andrew decided to push the herd deeper into the woods.

There, they found the crystal pool where the human had rested. After a quick check, Andrew downed the rest of the water in his thermos and filled it with the healing fluid; who knew when it could come in handy? The ponies all seemed wary as he pulled away with his thermos, and this anxiety became clear to Andrew when the cream colored earth pony spoke to him on their way out of the pit.

“Bushkeeper, know that when you take from the earth, the earth will desire something in return.”

Andrew listened intently and gave her a nod and a pat. “I understand.”

Satisfied, the mare allowed the journey to move on.

After completing their circle around the area, in which not much was really explored, Andrew returned the ponies to the camp. Settling in and organizing his supplies in a small ditch that he had dug with his own hands, he went to check on the progress of the earth ponies. Only two hours had passed since they had begun, but they were making quick progress on the wide and meter-deep gap; it was nearly halfway done.

The white unicorn foal crawled up to Andrew.

“Play?”

Smiling, the teenager looked to the ponies all around him, hard at work in gathering food for their meals that night, and even harder at digging their first defence. He looked back to the foal and hoisted him up.

And so passed another day in the early beginnings of ponykind.

32 - Neighbors

Neighbors

By the morning of the next day, Andrew had accomplished barely anything. He attributed it partially to his newfound addiction in playing with the pony foals, but most of the blame was on his own part. Many hours that could have been spent thinking up things to do were instead diverted to wandering around aimlessly with his herd and inspecting what was essentially just grass. On multiple occasions his ponies came up to the teenager and asked about what productivity they could be making. All Andrew could give them was a shrug, followed almost always by a motion to continue following him on his aimless journey.

When the human awoke at the dawn of the second day, he planned to make the best of his time.

With a stroke of unusual luck, Andrew woke far into the early hours of the day. At about four in the morning, he set out to make himself useful. A quick stop was made by the river for a drink, and by the apple orchard for some breakfast. He would have preferred spit-roasted fish, but that could wait until the night; the pegasi had unanimously agreed to bring the Bushkeeper fish every evening. There was a thick and decently lengthy branch that had fallen from one of the oaks, which Andrew eyed with a small grin. It reminded him of the first time he had met the herds.

Wandering up the river with his new walking stick in hand, the teenager began his journey to the north under the guise of the descending moon.

Andrew wasn’t too sure what he was looking for up north, but his gut instinct told him that something was up there that would prove to be far more beneficial to the ponies than anything he could offer. He had a few pieces of paraphernalia that were more eye-catching than useful to the ponies, and his negligence in learning survival skills left him at a disadvantage for teaching the ponies anything that could help support a sedentary lifestyle. He didn’t even know how to plant crops, but he supposed it couldn’t be too hard, could it?

After about an hour of walking, Andrew settled down for a break. The frozen mountains north didn’t seem any closer than before, and the sun had finally peeked over the horizon. The teenager was sure that the ponies would be awakening and wondering where their Bushkeeper had gone, leaving him just a tad guilty. It wasn’t as if he could have left a sign for them, but hopefully the absence of all his gear told them that he had simply gone travelling for a bit.

Just as he was finishing off an apple he had brought with him, there was a strange and sudden bray from close by. He stumbled forward and face planted right into the dirt, but recovered quickly and stood, stick held out at length. Staring at the creature as it gave off its weird snorting laughter, Andrew felt his cheeks flush in annoyance.

“Seriously?!” He threw his arms wide. “Even deer want me to suffer?!”

The pleasantly light brown deer let out a bark, causing Andrew to stumble backwards in surprise. It laughed again with its nasally snorts. It stood at about the same height as the teenager, and its antlers did not seem to be fully grown as of yet. Frowning, the human picked up his apple core and chucked it at the deer. The stag stopped laughing and went to dodge the core, but only ended up impaling it on one of its antlers. Eyes wide, it frantically bucked about in an attempt to pull the apple off.

Andrew bit hard on his lip, but he just couldn’t hold in his amusement.

“Hahahaha!” He pointed his stick at the deer and clutched his stomach. “Hahahahaha!”

The deer dropped to its rear and swiftly pried the apple off with its hooves. It stood again and glared at Andrew, causing the human to recover with a wheeze.

“Wow, okay.” He straightened out again. “You deserved that.”

The stag’s glare only hardened.

Before the two could do anything, a harsh cry cut through the area. The stag froze in place, eyes locked on the air behind Andrew, but the teenager chose the more savory option of focusing on the new deer that had just emerged from the same pocket of woods as the stag. The dotted doe trotted up slowly to the human and stared him down. Andrew went to speak, but there was something mesmerizing about the deer’s eyes, so he was instead confined to staring right back.

After a full solid minute of staring, with the occasional shudder by the buck further back, the doe blinked twice and let up on Andrew. The teenager took a deep breath and stepped back, suddenly aware of his surroundings again.

“What…what was that?” he asked warily as he patted himself down.

The doe simply walked past Andrew, leaving his question unanswered.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” The Bushkeeper hurried after the deer, followed closely by the stag behind him. After bounding over the river, the doe carried its momentum into a quick prance across the open fields to the east. Andrew’s eyes went wide; unlike the ponies, keeping up with deer was going to be quite the challenge.

The stag rushed past him in his own prance as the human clasped the buckles on his hiking pack. Taking a deep breath, Andrew began sprinting after the deer.

He caught up easily enough, but the hardest part was keeping pace. The deer took short strides as they ran, but the strides came rapidly as they travelled over the land. The teenager knew that he could keep running for a significant amount of time, but running constantly at a high speed would take its toll on his breath. Steeling himself, Andrew focused on his breathing and eased up in his steps. He fell behind the deer to begin a game of attrition.

The deers’ stamina, unfortunately for them, was about as formidable as Andrew had expected. For the ten minutes that they sped east across the land, they quickly grew tired. By the time they had slowed down enough that Andrew could easily catch up, though, it appeared that they had reached the doe's intended destination: the base of the eastern mountain chain. The human slid to a stop and walked between both the deer. The spotted doe looked to him as she walked, but did nothing but stare again. Andrew looked away to inspect the area that they were coming up on, but mostly just to avoid the mesmerizing gaze.

Before him was a wide, green gap that separated two of the mountains in the chain, leaving an open view to another valley ahead. A dense group of trees that seemed to tower into the sky were obviously of the redwood variety, and further on beyond them was a thick blanket of clouds that covered the land. As the group pulled closer, it became clear that there was much more to the trees than Andrew had expected. Deer flooded out from behind trees, causing the teenager to pause midstep. He watched with awe as what had to have been at least two dozen deer emerged from the tall trees. They had a wide variety of colors and mixes, but none of them were more unique than a rather imposing stag that stood at least three heads taller than Andrew. Some sort of natural crown caped around the base of his two horns, and the teenager was so mesmerized with them that he did not notice the other cervines drop low in a bow.

The deer stared long and hard at Andrew, then gave a bow of his own.

Absolutely awestruck, the Bushkeeper felt compelled to bow, and so he did.

As the buck came back up, it let out a snort and gestured his antlers to the area behind him. The deer surrounding the two stood as Andrew and the stag made their leave.

“So, uh, what’s all this about?”

The deer kept silent, amber eyes focused on the woods ahead.

Andrew shrugged. “Okay then, so you can’t talk. Hrm." Sighing, he hiked after the stag with his stick.

To occupy his time of peace and quiet, the human looked about the redwoods in awe. He had no idea how old the area around him was, but the height of the trees and their wide trunks made him believe that they had to have been at least a few centuries old. By some piece of fate, the answers of the land’s age came to him with the duo’s arrival at Andrew’s newest destination; the edge of a cliff.

The teenager, thanks to the help of the stag, was saved from the troubles of falling off the cliff. With a motion from the deer towards the land ahead of him, Andrew peered out across the landscape. There was a vast ocean of hot springs, and the strong smell of sulfur confirmed this. The barrenness of the tan earth surprised him, for he had never seen an area as large and plain as it in all of the time he had spent on the continent.

The stag prodded him once, shaking from his inspection of the surroundings. After another quick gesture, Andrew spotted a group of earth ponies scurrying between a few of the more active geysers. They were clearly having some enjoyment in the activity, but the teenager was more keen on the fact that there were more ponies out there that he could assist.

Andrew looked to the stag, curiosity ablaze in his eyes. “Why are you showing me all of this?”

The creature looked at him and said nothing.

All that the human garnered from the gaze was something… proud? He couldn’t quite tell himself; reading the faces of the stag was much harder than that of the ponies. Sure, he could see the deers’ brows move in accordance with their emotions, but with this stag? Clueless.

In the midst of his thoughts, the stag gave Andrew a bow and left him. Still cast adrift in attempting to understand why he had been shown the area before him, he looked back over the galloping earth ponies. The herd was not that much bigger than the one he had with him, but it was still quite a sizeable amount.

Rolling his shoulders, Andrew decided that a break would do him so good. He unclasped his bag and let it fall to the ground beside him, then dangled his legs over the precarious ledge.

Over the course of the next few minutes, the homesick human thought of his family.

As Andrew sank back into the woods, bag secured once again, he could see the deer playing all about the woods. There was something cheerful to their movements, and those that spotted him were absolutely brimming with joy. He gave a few of them a wave, but remained intent on finding the imposing stag again, still confused as to why he had been brought to the deer in the first place. Unfortunately, he was not able to find the creature again, but he was able to find the doe and buck that had originally led him to the redwoods.

“Hey guys.” He approached the two curious deer, then pulled a bit of the southern teal grass from his bag. Andrew offered a handful to them. “Deer eat grass, right?”

With surprising speed, the buck tore off a chunk of the grass tufts and settled down to eat them, nigh moaning with joy. Blinking, the teenager looked to the wary doe as she plucked rest of the grass from his hand. She set the grass aside and gave Andrew a smile.

He smiled back warmly. “Thanks, for leading me here. I… I really needed some time to think.”

Nodding, the doe bowed to him, then bent down to begin her snack.

Andrew chanced a pet of the deer’s neck, and was pleasantly surprised to find himself allowed the touch. Smiling even more brightly than before, the Bushkeeper plucked his stick back out from the ground and began the long walk home. While he certainly hadn’t done much in terms of civil production, he had learned a bit more about the neighbors.

Author's Note

You learn a lot about the tiniest details of the show and comics when you start doing research... like the fact that the word "horses" exists in Equestria. Or the fact that the deer live in the Everfree and do some magic potion stuff. Neat.

33 - The Lands Around Us

The Lands Around Us

Upon Andrew’s return from his journey, he found a mess of a camp.

The place had been thoroughly trampled by hooves, shown through the large patches of flattened grass. There was not a single soul amongst the camp, either, but there was a clear sign of some previous forms of life; a vast array of campfires scattered the area outside the earth pony den. Andrew took a moment to marvel at the remains of the lesson in firestarting, then resumed his search for the herds. Alas, the river’s sides lay bare, the apple grove nearby was devoid of life, and of course, the sleeping cave was empty.

Something inside him told Andrew to remain calm, and so he did. It was a good five minutes of wandering around the camp looking for answers when he found a clue as to what had happened to the ponies.

Written in the dirt of a far off corner within the sleeping den was a drawing. There was a pony standing over some sort of oval with waving lines contained therein, and all around the two shapes were great trees. The trees were not the same redwoods as Andrew had discovered before, no, they posed a much more similar form to that of an oak. It was a simple drawing, and its the message was clear; the ponies were in a forest at a body of water. Andrew could only think of one place nearby that fit that description.

Hefting up his walking stick, Andrew carefully made his way to the southern forest and towards the healing pool.

He thought it clever that the ponies had decided to leave an image for him. Before he could ask why the ponies were not more worried about him, he chided himself with another reminder that the ponies had been on the planet a lot longer than him. The teenager sighed and shook his head; a vast majority of the ponies were probably older than him in human years. A crack of wood momentarily disrupted the songs of the critters around, and after a period of frantically looking around, Andrew looked down and stared at the twig that he had stepped on.

Ignoring the squirrel laughing at him from up in a tree, Andrew kept on moving to the healing pool.

There was a loud commotion as Andrew passed through a familiar part of the woods. Following the noise, he found himself standing at the top of the pit that led down to the healing pool. His eyes shot about the scene, inspecting it rapidly in an effort to learn what was going on.

Crowded around the pool, the three separate species came forward as individuals to draw something long out of the water and into their hooves. ‘No,’ Andrew thought, ‘they’re dropping it in.’

The teenager slid over the edge and made the short drop to the bottom of the pit. A fair few of the ponies that had already deposited their offer to the pool came over to the human. Andrew idly ran his hand through their manes as they passed by, but kept moving forward to inspect the situation up close. The other ponies did not part for him, keeping the human at the edge of the crowd. At this point, a dozen and a half ponies remained around the pool, a sign that the herds had only been in the pit for a short amount of time. Andrew was twice as tall as the ponies, however, so his sight remained only slightly hindered of the ongoing events before him.

The motions of the rite were simple; a hoof was dipped into the water, then raised above it to allow a long ribbon of red to form between their hoof and the pool. The water would then drink in the offered essence, and as the pony pulled away, it would pulse with a light that grew stronger with each ribbon. As the ponies drew themselves away from the pool, Andrew could see that they were visibly weakened. Even the foals that had stepped forward were subject to the weakening effects of the water, and that scared Andrew somewhat. Against his better judgement, the Bushkeeper attempted to herd the ponies away from the pool.

And then… Andrew felt pain.

The ponies began whinnying wildly as Andrew attempted to push them away. Within seconds, the human had lost the battle of strength as earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns bowled him over. He fell backwards, his stick lost in the commotion, and slammed down into the water. A wave of the magical liquid flung everywhere as Andrew sank, the teenager filled with surprise and covered in the pain of the hoof-brought bruises. Mint was yelling something in English to him, but Andrew heard nothing.

He slammed down hard against something solid.

Heaving for air, the teenager sat up and looked around him. His vision only brought about a thick mist of red that made his eyes water and his body tremble, and he couldn’t even begin to describe the texture of what he was laying on. Andrew managed to stand, albeit shakily. His vision went pure red, and his ensuing scream came out soundless. Andrew tumbled down onto his rear and shut his eyes, embracing the blackness as he wrapped his arms around himself. A buzzing filled his head, all forms of thought blocked out in the noise.

Suddenly, it was all gone.

Andrew cracked open an eye to inspect the absence of noise. Before him stood the herds, all looking very worried. Mint opened her mouth to speak, but Andrew heard only the sounds of a normal pony; unintelligible snorts.

The teenager passed out.

“Andrew?”

The Bushkeeper sat there by the cave den, his eyes dull.

“What is wrong with him?” Greeny said, face full of worry. “He has not said anything since he woke.”

“I…” Mint’s ears flapped down against the sides of her head, “I do not know.”

Greeny stepped quietly over to the hunched over human and shook him gently by the shoulder. “Buh… Bushkeeper?”

The human looked to Greeny, tapped twice on his own throat, and then shook his head. His lips remained in a small frown as Greeny looked him in the eyes.

The stallion shuddered and took a step back. “Bushkeeper… nod if you understand me.”

Andrew didn’t move an inch.

“He only understands his own language, now.” Mint became downright terrified. “Now what are we to do?” she whinnied wildly.

“H-hey.” Smiling weakly, Andrew stood and kneeled down before Mint. He grabbed her gently by the muzzle and brushed his thumb over the bridge of her nose. “I… I think I made an offering of my own…” he whispered, chuckling softly. “But this is just another trial, isn’t it? We can do this.” He stood up and gave Mint space.

“What do we do?” The unicorn opened her mouth to continue speaking, but Andrew cut her off.

“Words? No. Monsters? No running.” He tapped his stick into the ground. “Home.” He repeated the word again. “Home.”

“Home.” Mint became desperate as Andrew did not take the hint. “Home!”

“No words.” Andrew shook his head. “Time and time again I’ve been shown that talking to you ponies is not an option that the universe will allow me to take. You will stay here, I will help you grow, I will teach you to survive and thrive better than you have ever lived.” Coughing, Andrew clutched at his throat and shook his head again before resuming his speech. “I’m done messing around with this world. Things…” he let out another hack, “things are not going very well for me. I’ve got to stop playing around and start working. Winter’s coming, yes? We will deal with it. We’ll put up a defense that the monsters won’t be able to break, and once winter passes, you’ll grow. I’ll help you survive another year, and at the end of that, I don’t care how long it takes to breathe life into a civilization whilst lacking any knowledge. I don’t know…” he took a break to take in more air, “I don’t know anything about creating a culture. You’ve done that. I know a little bit about how to survive, but I’m not a good teacher for all things. All I can do is give you a push in the right direction.”

Andrew turned and shuffled back over to the ledge that overlooked the tiny river valley and the rest of their hilly home. “I don’t like this place anymore,” he spat bitterly. “I never asked to go on this road trip through the continent of death and magic, but I did accept the pursuit. I’m going to see this through to the end.” The Bushkeeper turned to face the two ponies, both listening intently to the speech they could not understand. “I’m going to put on my best face. I’m going to teach you what it means to innovate. I’m going to put my childhood aspirations aside and put survival first.” The teenager took his walking stick up in two hands and looked it over. A cough threatened to come up from his lungs, but he prevented it from coming out. Holding the stick out before him, he jammed it hard into the earth. Then, he walked away.

The ponies did not find Andrew for the next day.

While the ponies were in the midst of practicing English, Andrew stormed into camp, arms full of wood. The ponies had no idea where the human had gotten the massive piles of firewood, but most of them were simply glad to see their Bushkeeper return. Andrew ignored them all, more focused on his work as he set out the materials before him. The three herds were worried about their leader. Despite their cultural differences, they were all just as worried about him, but all were too afraid to say anything to the human. Storm dragged Sparky away from Andrew when the colt got too close.

The ponies lived life mostly as they had before the arrival of Andrew; scrounging up food, which was easy due to their location, playing in the fields with each other, and resting. Though, food was gathered and stored, and lessons of English were taught, but Mint felt that wouldn’t last; without Andrew teaching them any new words, it would be difficult to utilize the language to its fullest extent without proper communication with the human.

Many days passed like this, Andrew’s hard work widening the gap between him and the ponies further and further. On the night of the third day, the ponies awoke to the sound of skittering spiders. As they emerged from the den, however, they only found Andrew outside, a burning torch in his hand. He glared at the ponies and shooed them back inside. Once they were out of the way again, he went back to work.

While the ponies pondered over the sudden change in the attitude of their leader, who had become more of a strange herd member than a leader after a week of his new way of living, Andrew finally came up with a plan on how to survive.

After his day of epiphany, he had begun working on ways to provide safety for the ponies. Worried about the spiders, Andrew had set aside multiple hours of each day into expanding the moat, creating a log wall, and setting up fires to ward off predators. Working by hand quickly became tiresome, and he had soon run out of usable wood for the walls, but given enough time to work, the tools that he created were surprisingly practical enough to wield. A stone hatchet quickly became his main tool, though the axe head did fall out often enough that he grew accustomed to carrying more than a few with him on gathering trips to cut down small saplings and frail oaks.

The wall went up soon after his invention of the stone hatchet, and with its completion, Andrew finally felt it time to bring the ponies back in to work with him.

Mint’s eyes went wide as the human approached her. The Bushkeeper hadn’t spoken to her in days, and it seemed like he was ready to talk. He did not speak, only motioning for Mint to follow. Excited to work with the human again, she gladly followed Andrew over to one of the firepits.

Every night, the human would let all of the ponies into the area around the cave den, then seal off the passageway in the log wall that towered over the ponies, and a little bit over Andrew. Then, Andrew would light fires all around the camp, filling them up with as much firewood as he could, and get to work with his experimentations in tools. The ponies would watch the process as they ate their fill of gathered foodstuffs and slunk off to bed, but none of them stayed around long enough to memorize how his system worked.

Mint learned a few things from Andrew’s motions, but they were all very important things. Andrew would set alight a small pile of twig and brush through the use of a stone and a chip of flint quartz, then pile a certain amount of sticks onto the fire. Mint watched carefully as Andrew counted each stick, and when he finally presented the fire to her, the unicorn was able to count over the sticks again. After nodding to him, Andrew led the unicorn over to another firepit, dropped the flint and stone at her hooves, then let her get to work. Mint had learned quickly what he was up to, and in no time at all, the unicorn had set fire to the rest of the firepits, just as night fell. Andrew complimented her proudly in English. Though she did not understand, she appreciated the intended message.

As the two set off to sleep that night, Mint kept her eyes open and stared out into the night sky just outside the den, smiling. Tomorrow, Andrew, Sparky, and Mint would teach all of the ponies how to start fires around the camp. After that, Andrew would get to work on his next project; providing tools to the ponies.

Andrew shut his eyes and thought long and hard about what his next steps would be. He knew that getting tools into the ponies hooves would be the next logical step, but he was more worried about the future; how was he going to bring them up into a civilization if he carried them all along the way? His mind full of intense thought, Andrew did not sleep that night. After all, he’d done enough napping in the magical land to last him a lifetime.

Despite his lack of sleep, Andrew got up and began a new cycle in his life as the Bushkeeper.

34 - The Thriving People

The Thriving People

“Mrrh?”

Andrew smiled weakly. “It’s cute, but it’s not practical.”

Mint spat the Bushkeeper’s latest project out onto the ground, then shook her head rapidly. “Bad!”

The teenager did a double take. “I didn’t teach you that word!”

Snorting, the irritated unicorn delivered a kick to the wood handle of the stone hatchet, then stormed off. Andrew stood his ground with mixed emotions. Before he could do anything, a scream tore across the landscape of the camp.

“Help!”

The high-pitched squeal terrified the human down to his core. He had only just begun teaching the adults further English. For a foal to scream for help?

Andrew spun a full one-eighty. “Hold on, Sparky!”

As the teenager sprinted over the blades of fresh morning dew, further ponies fell into step behind him. He ultimately beat them in reaching the colt. Instead of finding the pegasus alone, he found Sparky nuzzling weakly at one of the most important ponies in the colt’s life.

“Storm!”

Andrew crashed down to the mare’s side. Her chest heaved weakly as she struggled to breathe. The teenager placed the back of his hand on the mare’s forehead; she was burning up.

He went to work pulling his hoodie off while the ponies behind him caught up. The mixture of the three pony species crowded around the pegasus herd leader as Andrew slunk down to the river beside him. Soaking his undershirt with cool water, he brought the cool rag back over to the mare and pressed it to her head. The mare neighed quietly in her native tongue as Andrew eased the rag across her head.

The human left the rag on the mare. “Let’s get her inside the den.”

Ponies packed themselves tightly around the human as he carried the mare, forming a protective cocoon of flesh. A fierce storm of fear was surging through the crowd, but they rallied themselves all the same. The teenager, for his part, was busy looking over the mare cradled in his arms, looking for any further signs of illness or causes of infection.

The ponies had taken to covering the den floor with a set of fresh leaves every day, leaving Andrew with a perfect way to make a semi-comfortable bed of leaves to set Storm on. As he sat down next to the mare again, he checked on the shirt. He handed the warm rag off to a pony, and before he could say anything, the earth pony had rushed out of the cave and down to the river.

His awe at the ponies’ abilities to pick up on the things he did was set aside in order to check on the strange growth he’d noticed on Storm’s hooves. An inflammation of the frog was taking place on one of the hooves. The inflammation had also caused the frog to grow an almost soft pink. Horrified, Andrew stood up and stepped back to allow Blackie, Sparky, and the other pegasi their own time to look over the mare. Feeling sick, the teenager stumbled out of the den.

As he leaned on one side of the hill, Andrew successfully resisted the urge to hurl; just the sight of the boil-esque growth had been enough to make him want to vomit. He spat a huge glob of saliva to the side. The earth pony came running back up the hill with a soaking wet shirt, and the crowd within was quick to separate to allow the pony forth. Groaning, Andrew slid down the hill, the grass tickling his flesh.

He drew a hand across his heated face in spite of the warm sun above. “God help me…”

Andrew hadn’t thought about the idea that diseases were still present, even in this world. In fact, it was surprising to have only been hit by diseases at now of all times. He figured that such a thing may have happened earlier. Yet again, the human noted that time seemed to pass all the more slowly in this new land. Andrew stood and peeked back inside the den. The den was filled with distraught cries, the pegasus in major pain.

Thinking back to his time on the mountain top, the Bushkeeper ran back into the den and began searching frantically through his bag. He found the teal grasses immediately.

The teen threw his head back as he rippled through the crowd. “Move!”

Blackie and Sparky obliged after a moment of hesitation. Andrew carefully lifted Storm’s affected foreleg, then gently began wrapping her hoof. After an agonizing minute, the mare’s cries died down to whimpers. The healing properties were in effect now, and all Andrew could do was step back and let the natural phenomena take place.

But the human wanted to do more than that. The Bushkeeper had to take care of his little ponies, each and every single one.

Andrew retrieved his walking stick and bag from the corner of the den. He went to grab Mint and Greeny for his trip, but Greeny was far too occupied with Storm. Motioning for the azure unicorn mare to follow him, the teenager left the cave.

Mint made a worried whinny as she trotted after him, but her curious pony eyes provided Andrew with enough material to understand her message.

“We’re going to go see our neighbors.” He slowed his gait to match the mare’s nervous trot. “And you—” he gently slid his hand through his friend’s mane “—will be the first pony to see them.”

Mint pulled close to Andrew. The human was glad for his companion’s comfort.

Together, the pair walked in amiable silence.

The pony and human were pleasantly surprised to find a welcoming party already awaiting them. Andrew went forward first, his hand upheld in greeting. He could tell that not all of the cervine neighbors were out to meet them, but the stag leader and the doe with the mesmerizing gaze were the most remarkable characters in the party. Some of the deer seemed caught mid-stride, hinting that they had been about to leave… leave in the direction of the pony camp.

Sensing something amiss, Andrew put his hand down.

The stag leader made a strange chuffing noise. From the crowd of creatures emerged a young buck with a grassy knapsack tied around his neck. The Bushkeeper froze up at the sight of a such a wonderous tech, and he couldn’t help but stare at the bag as the buck approached. A strong scent assaulted the teenager’s senses as the buck drew to a stop. It felt oddly familiar, slightly homey, and a little rotten…

When the buck nosed the bag open, the scent increased tenfold.

After a quick look for permission, Andrew slowly reached into the bag and withdrew the white onion. A bulb of field garlic, strong-tasting, but mouth-watering. A variety of strange green herbs had been sprinkled on top of the garlic, as well as the numerous other pieces within the bag. The pony below him, curious as ever, leaned up on her hind legs and withdrew a piece of garlic from the buck’s bag. Then, without hesitation, she guzzled it down. Shuddering at the carnivorous display, Andrew took a bite of his own.

His mouth was bland one moment, and an explosion of bitter medicine the next. It quickly faded, however, and a pleasant aftertaste filled his mouth. Andrew wiped at his mouth with his bare arm, still naked from the waist up.

The buck stepped back with a bow, and then the great stag came forward. As if history was truly repeating itself, the stag began moving past Andrew and Mint, the rest of his flock following. Mouth agape, the human checked on his unicorn friend.

“You good, Mint?”

The mare stared up at him, distaste for the onion evident in her loud-smacking maw. With a soft laugh, Andrew began to follow after the fast-moving cervines. Mint hesitated a moment behind him, her eyes drawn to the forest where the rest of the deer stood hiding behind the trees, then followed after her best friend.

As soon as the pair had caught back up with the squadron of deer, the group noticeable began to speed up. In fact, they sped up to such an extent that Andrew had to pick up the azure unicorn and carry her. Urgency was evident in every hoof-fall of the deer, as if they already knew the agony of Storm. Worry overtook Andrew again, his thoughts growing grim.

‘This could be a crippling disease.’ The teenager shuddered at the thought. Sure, the mare was a pegasus, but a lame pony was a lame pony all the same. How could one go on without a fourth of their limbs? Like a horse, the risk of lameness meant the risk of having to put a pony down.

A nuzzle from Mint along Andrew’s neck shook him out of his bad funk.

“No bad,” the mare whispered softly.

Resisting the urge to cry at the mare’s care, the teenager placed a soft kiss below the mare’s horn, making her wiggle under the ticklish vice.

A tear dripped down onto the mare’s fur anyway. “Thank you, Mint. I don’t know where I would be… be without you.”

“No…” Mint placed a hoof against the side of his neck. “Andrew… no bad. Help Storm.”

The human choked up at that. “Y-yeah.” Sniffing, Andrew wiped away his tears and hurried forward to the front of the group. “We’ll help her out.” He looked at the deer around him. “They’ll…” he smiled “...they’ll help us.”

The camp was a blur of worry. There were a few ponies out and about committing themselves to some of their everyday chores, but most of them seemed to still be with Storm. It made Andrew very proud to know that all three of the tribes were showing care for the previously tribalist pegasus. A sense of progression was there, and it made Andrew all the more hopeful to continue his work at improving the society one piece at a time.

The buck with the garlic went in with Andrew and Mint, leaving the other deer outside. The cervines became a sudden attraction for all of the ponies outside, and the great stag pulled his own weight in being apart of the attention. Andrew spared the stag one last glance before he disappeared into the den with Mint and the garlic-holder.

Ponies parted as the new creature before them approached. They all brightened up with hope as the scent of garlic wafted over them. It was a natural medicine that they all knew well, and Andrew had just now realized the point of the healing herbs and bulbous payload.

Mint hopped down from his arms and curled up beside Greeny, the stallion gingerly padding Andrew’s shirt around Storm’s infected frog. The pegasus herself was in a state of delirium, but as the scent of garlic grew closer, her muzzle twitched with life. She raised her head painfully as the buck knelt down. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the cervine. With a shaky foreleg, she brought her good hoof out and pressed it gently to the young deer’s muzzle. He grunted softly and flipped open the knapsack.

Andrew studied the buck’s movements with rapt attention as he went about preparing an antidote for the inflamed frog. A bulb of garlic was crushed into a fine paste by the hoof instantly, and set aside on a leaf. Another piece of garlic was given to Greeny to feed to the mare, a short burst of foreign language enough to communicate the need. Carefully, the buck lifted the leaf up and spit onto it. A few rolls of the leaf was enough to make the garlic stick together, and very warily, the leaf was brought to the frog. A few delicate swabs of the mix saw an instant reaction. Storm swallowed the garlic that Greeny had chewed up for her and laid her head back, tired, but feeling better all the same.

Glad that the nightmare appeared to be reaching its merciful conclusion, Andrew left the den with reprieve.

The great stag was in the midst of an extreme display of patience, his brows furrowed sharply. The Bushkeeper smiled broadly at the pony foals that were attempting a climb of the towering behemoth, then turned to the rest of the deer, all huddled nearby and chattering excitedly over some manner of enchanting conversation. There was much for the ponies to learn, and the deer would be the perfect neighbors for the ponies to look up to and learn from. Andrew noted that one of the deer also had a grassy sack around his neck. With the intent to learn, the human strode forward to finish his initial examination of the weaving.

As the ponies and deer settled down for the night to discuss a wide range of ideas, kinds that equines and cervines would convene for, the black smog of the south slipped rearward and beneath the mountains, sealed behind the walls of the deers' medical botany.

Author's Note

Did'ya miss yer cute lil' ponies? I sure did.

35 - The Winters Yonder

The Winters Yonder

Mint leaned deep into the palm of the Bushkeeper, her mind in bliss.

“Willhorn.”

She propped herself upright, much to Andrew’s confusion, to watch the stag behind her. Shafts of sunlight sprinkled down through the clouds and between the cervine’s jagged antlers, casting the wise creature in wisdom and intelligence. He pulled up quietly to the herd leader and looked down at the human beside her. The Bushkeeper spouted a few cautious words in his language, followed by a worried glance to Mint, then stalked off to tend to a few of the foals down by the river.

The unicorn’s eyes followed the stag carefully as he folded his legs beneath him, bringing himself down to eye level. There was an obvious pain in the movement, prompting the mare to worry.

“I… age.” He shut his eyes and took a slow breath. “I will not be amongst my fawns for much longer. I must ask you ponies… for assistance.”

Mint sat down and tenderly pressed her hoof to the cervine’s weak chest. “What do you ask?”

The stag wrapped his hoof Mint’s own. “A herd… all I ask. You have leaders: the cloudmaster, faithful and noble; the hornless, powerful and giving; and you…” his grip tightened “willhorn, welcoming and cheerful. You will lead your herds down a line of prosperity, I only ask you take my herd with you… when my… time comes.”

Silenced, the unicorn herd leader eyed Andrew in the distance. “What of the Bushkeeper?” When she looked back to the stag, his eyes were locked on the human.

“It… is not a leader.” The stag blinked once. “The Bushkeeper is… something else. It will bring great change…” His lip quivered visibly, then abruptly stopped. The stag stared down into Mint’s orbs, hope glimmering in his eyes. “A change for the good… a change I do not wish to be left behind on. Already now…” He paused. “You have seen it, have you not?”

Mint thought back to the valley. The land had willed change to the place, but it had not led the herds out. The herd had been separate, and now they stood together. Noise fell dim to the mare’s ears as she reflected on their adventures across the Green Land and over the mountains.

“Yes,” Mint whispered softly.

“Then you know of what will come next?”

“I know… I know that the Bushkeeper is a pony amongst us all. He is already changing our lives and my ponies. Already now we work together, three herds as one… it is unheard of, a foal’s imagination become reality.”

The stag let his grip loose and leant back. “I will be here to help you grow. So will your Bushkeeper.”

“Andrew.”

“That is how you say his name in his language. Andrew.”

“What… What role does... Andrew... play here?”

Mint smiled warmly and looked to the teenager. “He is my friend. He is my protector.” She turned back. “He is the Bushkeeper that the lands have sent us.”

37 - The Collapse of Innocence

The Collapse of Innocence

“This whole ‘being left out of conversations’ thing really blows.”

Orange gave Andrew a glare that rang out in ‘go take your problems elsewhere, I’m busy.’ The progress on setting up a new campfire had been momentarily halted by the man’s presence, and it was clear from both the glare and the intimidating earth pony’s posture that meant it was time to go. Sighing, the teenager gave the mare a pat on the nape of her neck and moved on to another portion of the green pasture.

Andrew noted that there was something… off, about the camp within the walls. Foals from all of the herds were out and about enjoying their lack of responsibilities, the unicorns and some earth ponies were busy tending to the field of apple trees, and the pegasi were taking advantage of the clear autumn sky to hone their flying skills and dive-bomb fishing tactics. Everything seemed calm about Andrew, so what seemed to be the problem?

‘That’s just it,’ he realized. There weren’t any problems.

For the moment, there really wasn’t anything too worrisome that required immediate intervention by his hand. It irked him, and he had all the reasons to be paranoid: from giant spiders to cockatrices, and all the way to forest fires and mass migrations of ponies, there just wasn’t anything that required his utmost attention. ‘Now,’ he thought, ‘Now what do I do?’

He glanced at the watch on his wrist. Alongside his clothes, his backpack, and his thermos, it was the only sign of his previous living standards that he had left. Here amongst ponies, he was nothing more than another creature attempting to live out their natural life. His arrival was unprecedented, and his admittance to the ponies’ culture happenstance. What more did he have left to do? Sure, he could work more on his tools—a quick glance to the cave reminded him that he still had yet to inspect some of the deers’ bags—and as such, help bring some technology to the world, but was there any rush?

And the more that he thought about it, the less and less sure he was about the whole situation. He raked his thoughts for an answer, but even then, it didn’t quite satisfy his needs; Harmony was nothing more than an apparition. Was she even real? He felt his leg, still a little sore, but it was almost good as new. The exodus from the burning lands had been real, that much true, but if Harmony was truly more than a spirit and that what she preached was also fact, he was there to bring a better future to the ponies.

“And the deer,” Andrew muttered.

Were they also apart of this so-called plan? They sure seemed intent on staying; it was noon by now, and they still were out and about inspecting the camp and relating themselves to the ponies. Cervines and equines were trotting hoof-in-hoof about the area, never straying too far from each other, and never halting once in their conversations. It was a good sign, all things considered, that the ponies and deer were all getting along. Nice neighbors means nice things are sure to come. Yet, something felt odd about it. It all felt natural, and it had to have been, for the species both shared many common principles. Did he really have such an important role as he thought himself to have? All he had done was lead a few characters to the right positions and let it play out. The connection between the deer and ponies was just the latest act.

The forest fire had been his greatest obstacle, and he had overcome it. How much of it had been accomplished through his will alone? A minor role; he had merely lead them, and only just barely. Their weakened stomachs were filled, that was something major that he had done. But would it not have been only a matter of time before they had discovered the berry grove for themselves? More importantly, where had the name Bushkeeper come from? He had only heard about the term after the ponies’ meeting with his berry surplus. What was a Bushkeeper, anyway? Why did he feel like there was something the ponies knew that he didn’t?

The teenager’s hands balled into fists. Deep down inside, an anger at his whole situation had been suppressed, but now it came free. Sucking in a deep, long breath, he walked as calmly as he could over to where Mint and the great stag sat.

“I’m borrowing this,” Andrew stated loudly as he picked up Mint and dragged her away.

The mare, ever the adorable sight, gave several squawks of protest before she gave up. The stag and her shared one last look—worry in the deer’s eyes, confusion in the unicorn’s—as Andrew pulled the mare up to the crest of the den. The man spared a moment to worry about the structural integrity of the cave, but he had faith in his earth ponies.

He plopped Mint down on the grass. “You. Wait.”

She blinked slowly as Andrew retracted his outstretched hand and slid down the steeper side of the hill. “Andrew?” she called to no response.

“Lemon!”

The stallion and his green friend looked up at Andrew’s sudden approach. “Bushkeeper—?”

“You’re a smart couple. Now… You—” he pointed to Lemon, then up at Mint “—run!”

Lemon complied after a moment, his legs carrying him quickly up the hill.

“You too, Greeny!”

Moving too slowly for Andrew’s taste, the human decide manhandling the stallion would work out better.

He tossed the stallion down beside his mate. Taking a seat himself, Andrew did the best he could to not yell at the trio grounded before him. He stood stock still, arms crossed firmly.

“Now… I’m not angry, but I do know that something’s up. And I just so happen to know that something’s gone wrong with you unicorns.” A bitter, coppery taste filled his mouth. He calmed himself for a moment to prevent any further damage to the inside of his cheek. “I know for a fact that I’m missing something important here, and I know for a fact that I was unconscious for half of the major events that have transpired. Something you unicorns did changed me, and I’m just now beginning to realize things might not be as they seem. Something’s up, and I want to know what.”

Despite the language barrier, the equines all knew they were in trouble. Like the little band of troublemakers they were, the ponies all kept their mouths shut. All except for one.

“Andrew?” Mint spoke softly.

The human’s perception of reality quickly began to crack. Throughout the entirety of Andrew’s adventure, Mint’s speech pattern had been as accented as a foreigner speaking a new language, but as she continued to speak, things grew rapidly out of hand.

“Light.” She licked her lips and continued speaking, her accent gone. “Mint running home, trees, water, you. Mint wait, monsters bad. Andrew, you help; berries. Mint you unicorns. Andrew Bushkeeper? Mint yes. Pegasi bad, you help. Monsters bad, you help. You bad, ponies help.” She shook her head roughly from side to side.

In another unseen feat, a stick appeared out of thin air, surrounded in an aura of blue mist. Her horn lit brightly with magic as she began to carve into the earth before her. She explained herself as Andrew watched on anxiously.

“Writing words help Mint.” Her accent was still mysteriously gone.

Unnerved by the turn of things, the human remained still.

As she continued to write out the English alphabet, she called to her mate and Lemon for help. They each gave a cautious glance to Andrew, then resigned themselves to their delegated task. Magic slipped from their horns and into Mint’s own aura. The mare’s face soured in concentration and stress as the stick in her aura retraced over the already written letters. Each character glowed with a vibrant blue intensity, but Andrew kept his eyes trained on the process. He wasn’t going to miss out on anything. Not this time.

The azure unicorn gave a furious nod, and in reply, the two stallions ceased their efforts. Mint telekinetically smoothed the entire dirt surface, now devoid of grass, leaving a nice template for her to write on. She set the stick down in her magic, and in turn, the soil stopped glowing, but around the mare herself the aura still sat. The moment of reprieve lasted for only a scant few moments.

And then it began.

The stick shot back up in her magic and Mint began to write in perfect English, albeit without punctuation.

“THERE WAS LIGHT FROM THE FOREST AND I RAN AS I RAN I SLOWED TO BREATHE AND YOU WERE THERE THE SOURCE OF LIGHT I KNEW FROM THE WAY YOU STUMBLED UNSURE AND UNCOMFORTABLE OF YOUR SURROUNDINGS I DEPARTED FROM MY HIDING TO MEET YOU EAGER TO HELP YOU PROVIDED FOOD AND LATER TO MY HERD I KNEW YOU WOULD NOT STAY FOR LONG BUT THE POWER”

She wiped the earth clean.

“YOU HELD IN YOUR FORM WAS ENOUGH TO BRING GOOD TO MY HERD I DID NOT EXPECT THE CLOUDMASTERS TO BE PERSUADED BY YOU BUT THAT IS WHEN I LEARNED OF WHAT YOU WERE CAPABLE OF I CHALLENGED YOU AND YOU PERSEVERED I PROVIDED VISIONS AND YOU FOLLOWED BUT THE POWER OF WILLHORNS WAS NOT ENOUGH TO HOLD YOU FOREVER WITH EACH PASSING MOMENT OUR HOLD GREW WEAK AND IT BURST IN THE MOMENT OF BURNING”

Her hoof slid across the dirt far more shakily.

“WE PROVIDED ONE LAST MESSAGE FOR YOU AND YOU FOLLOWED BUT I KNEW YOU WOULD LEARN EVENTUALLY OUR POWER HAS WEAKLY HELD ONTO YOU YOU HAVE SEEN IT WE ONCE WERE ABLE TO SPEAK FREELY AND WHEN THE SPELL SHATTERED YOUR POWER WEAKENED YOU WERE ONCE ABLE TO COMMUNICATE BEYOND THE HERDS BUT I KNOW THAT YOU ARE ABLE TO ACCOMPLISH THIS NO LONGER”

“THIS WAS THE WORST OUTCOME ONE I DID NOT EXPECT BUT YOU HAVE PULLED THROUGH AND COME TO THIS END ALL WE ASK IS THAT YOU CONTINUE TO HOLD YOURSELF AS A FIGURE FOR US ALL YOU REPRESENT OUR HOPES TO GROW YOU REPRESENT THE POWER THAT WILLHORNS HAVE BEEN GROWING FOR MANY MOONS YOU REPRESENT A NEW RISING SUN WE DID NOT MEAN HARM I USED YOU WITHOUT FORESEEING THE CONSEQUENCES”

Sniffing, Mint didn’t even bother to clean the dirt. With tear-filled eyes, the azure unicorn dug into the soft dirt with her hoof.

“PLEASE FORGIVE ME”

Andrew was quiet.

“Mint…”

The mare shied away from the human as he stood slowly.

“Mint… how much of my time here was made by my decision?”

She didn’t reply.

“Oh? So you can’t say anything? I suppose this has something to do with abusing my power or whatever that even means!” He clutched at his head and bent his neck downwards. “Oh my god… oh my god… this has been going…” the teenager looked up at Mint. “This has been going on since the beginning?” His voice grew faint as he too began to tear up. “Mint I can’t… I just can’t believe this. Everything here has been influenced by you? Power? What power?”

He picked up the stick she’d been writing with and pointed to it. “Is this what it’s all been about? Your magic? Is that the power? This place is filled with all this magic, and I’m supposed to believe that that’s what it’s been all about? Because I really do believe that!”

Greeny stood over Andrew as he stomped two steps towards Mint. “No!”

“I wouldn’t hurt a pony…” The teenager stepped back. “Oh my god… did… oh god… did you plant that thought in my head, too? That I wouldn’t hurt ponies? That can’t be right… maybe it’s just to protect your herd… yeah, definitely, right? Y-you wouldn’t control me… I would never hurt you…”

“Andrew…” Her accent was back.

“Please don’t speak, Mint.”

She didn’t.

“Jesus Christ…” Andrew wiped a bead of sweat. “I’m sorry lord… holy Christ why… everything was all fine until the fire… what about the—” he kicked his shoe hard into the dirt. “THIS IS CRAP!”

The camp went dead quiet. All eyes looked up at the scene taking place on the hill, a theatre amongst the plains of green.

“I CANNOT BELIEVE WHAT’S JUST BEEN REVEALED! YOU HURT ME! I HURT, MINT! MY ARMS, MY LEGS, MY MIND! ALL THIS TRAVELING HAS WORN ME DOWN! I’M HERE NOW, IN THE MIDDLE OF SOME PLAIN PLAYING WITH ROCKS! I JUST WANTED TO GO ON A STUPID HIKE WITH MY FRIENDS! I’M JUST A KID, AND YOU PULLED ME INTO A SITUATION WHERE I FELT I WAS IN CONTROL, WHEN ALL THAT WAS REALLY HAPPENING WAS THAT THE ALIEN WAS BEING USED FOR HIS POWER!” Andrew’s arms fell to his sides, his chest heaving.

“I suppose I c-can’t blame you for everything, can I?” He wiped away a glob of snot. “I-I was just stupid for believing that I was in control of my life.”

Pulling her mate off of her, Mint approached Andrew. She visibly shook as the distance closed, until they were not more than a meter away from one another. There, the two stood quietly as they watched each other. Pain wracked over Andrew’s mind and soul. A deep line of regrets surged through Mint.

“Y-you were my best friend, Mint.”

Andrew didn’t have to go far. At the mouth of the den, all of his stuff was waiting for him. He blatantly ignored all the attention the ponies and deer were giving him and quickly gathered up his items. Securing his backpack, he picked up his walking stick and climbed over the eastern wall of the camp. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew that he wanted to be as far away as possible from the ponies.

However, minutes of stalking in bitter silence quickly grew into morbid self-hatred.

“Stupid, stupid STUPID!” He slammed his foot into a pebble, sending it flying. “RAGH!”

Andrew stopped where the pebble had landed and glared into the forest. The spiders sat in waiting for him, but the human wasn’t afraid. Seeking to vent his anger, he barged into the woods, stick in hand. Now he had a destination, and he wasn’t going to let a couple of giant spiders get in his way. Fortunately for the spiders, they were able to avoid the wrath of the angry teenager, who was far too occupied in understanding the situation he had been thrust into.

As much as he wanted to hate Mint, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words to himself. The two had formed such a powerful bond that it felt wrong to try and break it. For him, that was precisely the problem; what if the connection had been forged, not grown? Everything around him suddenly felt so real, far more real than anything else he had ever experienced in this arduous path of adventure. How long had he been here now? He couldn’t even remember the numbers. Something had numbed his mind, and he just couldn’t believe it was the magic of the ponies.

Magic had caused all of these issues. It was a poison in the sea he swam. No matter where he went, there was nowhere safe for him to exit the water without feeling the cool air of life brush against his tarnished flesh. The power that permeated the very air around him stung to the touch, and he was only just beginning to realize the true potential of the power that had afflicted him. The more he thought about it, the more he correlated it to what he had read straight from Mint. If magic was the power that the unicorns sought, then why was Andrew so easily abusable for mass amounts of power? What was so interesting about him that stood out? He had assumed that his unnatural arrival to the land was the reason for his special attributes, but was that really correct?

Harmony… it was a manifestation by Mint. Created to guide him towards the ponies’ ulterior motives. They were nothing like Andrew had initially believed their motives to be. There was no prancing and feasting of food. There was no playtime to be spent frolicking in fields. There was no adventure to be had. The only that stood true from Harmony’s statements was that Andrew was to help the ponies grow technologically. It was the only fact that stood amongst a crowd of truths turned lies. Nothing had ever been self-evident in his stay here, and it all helped to compound that one single fact; Andrew had been used for power.

He finally reached his desired location; the magical pool. Now, it was the only thing that remained unexplained in the world. Everything else had turned in their cards and shown their hand, but the pool had yet to do any of that. He dimly remembered his first journey to the pool: how it had healed him; how it had molded a path for him; how it had caused him major issues in his understanding of everything around him.

He hopped down into the pit and approached the pool. It sat there, waiting for him to approach. Red bubbled to the surface as he came closer. He scowled at the crimson color and dug his stick into the water. If there was power within him, then now was the time to show what it was really meant for. Though he had never experienced or committed himself to any such feats, he forced his mind into the creation of the spell. He hated the way that these thoughts came to mind, and very well hoped that this was not some otherworldly force telling him what to do.

Immediately nauseous, the human fought the urge to hurl from a sudden expenditure of energy. The crimson swirled up into the staff, pooling at the top tip. He believed that a gust of wind had somehow managed to find its way into the pit, but Andrew quickly noted that it was actually coming from the pool itself. The water swirled in a cyclone, forcing new colors to emerge. Yellow and orange slid up the staff as the liquid became a viscous blend of grey. Then, the staff exploded in a brilliant flash of green. Andrew stumbled backwards, overwhelmed by the force of the explosion. Hot splinters bounced harmlessly off of his skin, and as he stood again, a swirling orb of colors sat above the pool. The pool was now gone, leaving nothing but a hollow crevice in its wake. The rainbow-hued orb of magic bobbed above Andrew, and it was with great uncertainty that he pushed his hand into the mass.

Something warm passed over him, and with fascinated horror, the orb slid into the palm of his hand. It rapidly began to crawl down his arm, his veins pulsing with shimmering light. His body was soon overtaken by the magic, covering him in nothing but pure glowing essence. He almost felt… stronger. With an obvious hum, the rainbow of colors seceded down into his skin, leaving him with a pounding headache. A plethora of thoughts shot through his mind, most passing by too quickly to grasp, but in the hour that he spent writhing on the floor with his hands glued to his head, he knew what exactly Mint had been after.

This was the power they had wanted, and as Andrew stood, he realized just how strong that power was. He knew that he had fallen right where he should not have crossed, but it was too late now. This power was dangerous, and as he stood again, body numb and mind seeking explanation, Andrew felt that he was finally back in control of his life.

Until he something slink from the earth before him. The human shivered and stepped backwards.

There she stood again, her form visible; Harmony in Mint’s form.

Angry, and further confused, he was quick to question the appearance. “What are you?”

She didn’t speak, only staring at him. Harmony spoke, but in the tongue of the ponies. Andrew made no effort to point out the language barrier, and the ghost did nothing in reply. Quite rudely—albeit his anger justified the action—he poked his stick into the ghost. It shimmered again, and this time the pony had something to say about his actions; it spoke again, words garbled, but one word stood audible amongst the chaos.

“...manipulated…”

Andrew glared at the apparition. “Manipulated what?”

It spoke again, but there was no format to the words. Garbled and misaligned, the teenager was left with nothing to work with but the single word.

“So you’re real, huh?” He frowned. “But you sure don’t act like the Harmony I met.”

A familiar string of words erupted from her mouth again, the second sentence repeated, “...manipulated…”

“I…” Andrew shook his head. “I don’t understand. If you’re supposed to be an illusion crafted by Mint, then why are you here? You manipulated me, for god’s sake!”

Surprising the Bushkeeper, the ghost shook its head.

“What do you mean, no?” His brow furrowed even further. “Are you just lying to—”

The ghost spat one angry letter in the pony language, but its form remained neutral.

“I don’t…” he shook his head. “I don’t get it. If I can believe you—and that’s implying that I want to—then what was manipulated?”

Like a beast rising from the grave, the stiff apparition began to move. Harmony made no noise as she trot towards Andrew, and her face gave way to emotion. Anger grazed her lips, as she spoke, but the human could not understand. She stalked closer and closer, and since he had not moved, Andrew was subject to the touch of the being. She sank into his skin, absorbed by the able flesh.

“We were manipulated.” Harmony whispered angrily into his mind. “Words not our own. Our fwafwa taken unwillingly. Thieves they were.” Suddenly, each new sentence began to change, a different voice to it. “A path not our creation. This journey not yours to hold. Great fwafwa exerted, replenished by your soul.”

“Thieves,” A voice chanted. “Thieves,” a new one cried. “Thieves,” Harmony’s voice growled.

Andrew’s chest felt like it had burst as the ghost shot out of his body and before him. The mare fixed him with a harsh stare that sent an electric shock through his body.

“Bring us our power,” she hissed. “Face the willhorns and force them to return the fwafwa they stole. We will restore order before chaos consumes this early world. A reward warrants the return of this land’s lifeforce.” Her face turned soft as she looked behind her towards the previous location of the healing pool. “We must return now, for our battle grows fiercer.”

Warmth left Andrew just as quickly as he had earned it. The rainbow of power drew away from his body in a wavy mist, coalescing into the healing pool of liquid it had initially come from. Once the water had returned to its natural form, Harmony slunk into the liquid power, not bothering to look back at Andrew.

The headache throbbing in the teenager’s mind threatened to tear him apart. Everything he had ever believed to understand had been torn apart twice now. Before him now stood three paths, and he could not tell which one was true; his own path, the path of the gods, or the willhorns’ path. All he knew for certain was that he was experiencing a power struggle between mortals and their gods, and he was right in the middle of them.

Slumping against a rock, Andrew struggled to come to terms with the fact that he now had to return to the ponies and face the fact that he would have to fight his first and best friend over a lie. A lie that she had told him since the beginning. A lie he had been fed by every being around him. He felt disgusting, empty, and deeply disturbed.

Recognizing that he was now truly alone in a vile world of merciless creatures, Andrew began to cry.

38 - The Antithesis

The Antithesis

Andrew… was a wreck.

The teenager’s mind felt like it was in the wrong place. He felt himself at odds with the world, seemingly claimed by an endless cycle of pain and rejuvenation. Each step had led him further into the fresh hell’s depths, culminating in an unrealized promise; one of freedom from the magical land of ponies, dragons, and hydras. That was the goal he faced now, but it wasn’t exactly what he’d started with. The journey begun as a sudden detour, but had blown out into a test of will with pauses of some tranquility in between.

But now, there would be no recuperation. There would be no breaks to the cycle. A world of hope held up Andrew’s shoulders, but atop it sat the weight of countless worries and woes; what hope was there to be found in lieu of lost friendships and ongoing betrayals?

He didn’t know how to answer that.

In hindsight, it truly was a privilege that Andrew could simply sit there in exchange for allowing the rain to have its go at him. It held back, a light drizzle in the cloudless sky, caressing the teenager’s cheeks with each slick and momentary touch. Yet, each droplet left a ghost of a sting in its place, reminding Andrew that despite the odds, he had remained alive and breathing in a warring world away from home. Almost a month of life away from home… or even a month… Andrew didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

Unadorned titulars, meaningless motions, ineffectual inventions. These had been the staple archeologies of the Bushkeeper’s tale. From the first berry shared, to the countless ideas given in the pursuit of uplift… it had begun with the ponies, and now it would end with the ponies. This was truly going to be the end of his stay here.

Andrew bit into his lip, unsure if he wanted to believe the notion. Or even if he was ready to.

He wiped the tears from his eyes and stood.

The walk was a long one, but Andrew had time on his side. Time knew him all too well. He felt himself more closer to the concept than anything around him; this feeling pooled in the connections between his arrival and return from the pony lands. Time never slowed for him. Time never got ahead of him. Andrew bode himself with time, ignorant of borrowed lies and their heartfelt cries. Had these thoughts consumed him earlier in the journey, Andrew would have laughed with some mirth over the idea that a few creatures could easily hide their innocence behind a facade.

Time was unlike the ponies. Where Andrew had been reluctant to continue forward with them, they urged him forward. When he had gone too far, he’d played right into their hooves. What the ponies had seen in him was easy prey, and what they had used him for was the unabashed domination of the landscape.

“Mint…”

The rain hid the tears.

At the center of it all stood Mint. The azure unicorn that Andrew had trusted. The one he'd held faith. The one he’d loved. That he hated. He… feared.

Above all, Andrew feared the loss of his friend. He didn’t want to lose her no matter the cost. Even across boundaries they’d understood each other, and even through the vile hatred and contempt he knew of her now, there still sat a resemblance of a real… friend.

It all sat there on that dreaded word. Friends and friendship. What meaning did such ideas really have when the world you’d built up to surround friends with collapsed in an instant? It was a whole new environment, with unfamiliar faces and even more unfamiliar ideals. Mint had revealed herself as a monster in Andrew’s eyes, almost irrevocably shattering the teen’s perception of his pony ‘friend.’ What happened now had no effects on the faux past established by Mint. She couldn’t possibly sway him with how much venom had been revealed to Andrew…

But the idea of maintaining a friendship with a ‘demon’ simply reminded the teenager he was stubborn. From the beginning and even now, he’d adhered to a one-track mind. Adventure had taught him nothing. He hadn’t earned any knowledge, everything had been handed to him, a puzzle fed to him piece-by-piece. Nothing had been found, and yet… something was lost. There weren’t any feelings there to guide him, no souls of the sky seeking to use him as a pawn, no animals around the corner prepared to follow him to their next meal. Andrew was an individual, and individuals could make decisions, but societies could change worlds.

That was what it meant to be the Bushkeeper. It was nothing but a title, nothing more than a placard upon a lanyard to show him off to the world as an individual. A Bushkeeper was free to make a name from themselves, and carve the world as they saw fit alongside their peers. It was never their intention to work towards the recession of violence, never their position to be the good of the world, never their duty to take the role of a leader… Andrew had a purpose, and it was up to him to decide what would be done to achieve his goals. All the ponies had wanted was to change their world for the better, and Andrew had answered by seeking to establish a society of ponies; he’d brought it upon them to unite and do it themselves… but the idea had been his own. There had been no direct orders from Harmony. There had been no plans outlined by Mint. All that had been given to Andrew were vague hints of where to go and what to do. It was his mind and his hands alone that had morphed the world.

Andrew had forgotten what it was like to be human.

An individual had power. But it was raw power. Under the guidance of many individuals, this power had meaning. Under the strongest individuals, however, a single mind controlled its power of its own volition. It gave itself meaning, and as such, a means of progression. Life moved forward in a group of consolidated power, and even so, it continued when there was but a single mind. But Andrew realized he had been wrong twice now; it had not been the fact that the ponies could not work together as a people, and it had not been the fact they could not work without a leader to coordinate them—both of these fallacies had been disproven through his actions—it was the fact that the ponies were too consumed by their set definitions of the world. They viewed their landscape as unchangeable, with solid variables in place that had to either be removed or added. The ponies viewed the magical power of the world as one of these variables, and had so strongly believed the Bushkeeper to be a missing variable. Andrew saw past these flaws now, and saw a world of opportunity. Not one of preconceived variables, but one encompassing the freedom of creation; the world was not but presets, it was one where each idea was carefully crafted be it through individuals, or through societies. Only through his presence did the secluded world of ponies begin to crumble.

Andrew was human. That was what made him a Bushkeeper. That was what made him the opposite of what the gods of the world were; the antithesis. Harmony and the goods wanted to take his mind, prevent him from spreading his individuality and world-altering seeds. Their command to him had been to destroy his progress by taking Mint away. His power; friendship with an individual… a herd. He had begun to develop a society, the first step on the path of creation, which the gods themselves viewed as their unchangeable variable truths. He wouldn’t let them destroy what he’d begun. He would tear apart the order of the gods, and in its wake, sow a path of revolution against the values of magic and power. A human was just what the world needed to rid itself of the primordial beings and their bindings against life itself; the ponies simply needed an example to begin their rebellion.

The Bushkeeper’s shoes trudged to a stop before the pony encampment. Andrew breathed a slow, methodical breath.

… But he already knew he didn’t need it.

39 - Their Security

Their Security

They met him at the wall.

The air was slick with tension. Before the three tribes stood their salvation to an oncoming madness, and behind them sat their united flock. The leaders stood still before the human like ponies awaiting death’s touch. Andrew made no haste to speak or move; he had waited for answers for longer. This was their judgement, and the next words spoken would change the history of ponykind.

“Bushkeeper.”

The human’s eyes shifted away from Brownie.

Mint’s lips twitched. “... Andrew,” she amended. “You came to our people a beacon in a time of great famine.” She bowed low and continued. “You fed us, and we worshipped you in return… and despite our differences, you became one of us. We tried to return your kindness, but found ourselves unable. You aided us in our darkest times, and in response… I betrayed your trust.” Mint stood with shaky hooves, “... the willhorns ask only to see a new sunrise, Bushkeeper.”

The cloudy sky trembled with thunder as Storm stepped forward.

“Our herd… divided. You made us whole again.” Storm’s eyes brimmed with tears. “My ponies were destined to disappear, weak without unity. You brought us together and formed us stronger. We… I have tried to follow in your hoofsteps, but none may match the glory and grandeur of your inspiration. Our people once found ourselves weakest amongst the earth, but you have taught us that there is more to be praised for amongst those who do not soar.” The old mare smiled softly through the burning sins of past scars. “The cloudmasters ask for unity between earth and sky, Bushkeeper.”

Brownie, the silent leader, stood steadfast.

“Bushkeeper. You are of the hornless.” The recluse mare shut her eyes and breathed. “But you are also of the willhorns and cloudmasters. You taught us of a life beyond our isolated comprehension, and you have shown us what lay beyond the world of strength and earth. The Greenland prospered under you, but it was not merely through strength, but that of wisdom. I once believed the lands would lay feral without power, but no longer.” Brown opened her eyes and stared deeply into Andrew’s own. “The hornless yearn for the power of mind.” She bowed her head. “Th earth is with you, Bushkeeper.”

The tribes stood silent once more.

Rain began to pour down in earnest, casting the meeting in a shade of doubt. Mint dared not move, for fear of disturbing Andrew’s thoughts. Her fellow leaders did the same, all anticipating what would come of their herds’ desires. The teenager stood there and let the rain have its way, large droplets splattering against his otherworldly gear and soul alike. A hum permeated the air as the Bushkeeper’s staff of red magic sat in its own contemplation. Thunder boomed, and soon the winds began to whip and howl. But all creatures present stood their ground, even as each felt the approach of evil.

And then the sound around them dulled.

“... Mint.”

The unicorn stood with rapt attention and wide eyes as the world around her grew faint.

The teenager held his arms outward as his lips curved upward. “I just wanted a hug.”

And she would give it to him.

Mint leapt into Andrew, but the human did not topple. He held her, his body unmoving and emotionless. In time, Storm alighted upon the Bushkeeper’s back and latched on, tears hidden by the rain. Brown too came forth, her hug wiping the nausea away from Andrew’s breath. In this cocoon, the leaders were one, and the human’s punctured heart was made whole again. From beyond the barrier between worlds, the teenager felt the rest of his soul surge forth. Within him, the flames of passion roared to life, no longer held back as a mere spark. Andrew was human. He was himself. He was the keeper.

And from thenceforth came the power of friendship.

And with it, hope.

“Language barrier or not,” Andrew began as he pulled back, “I want you all with me. What’s done is done… we can’t change the past, but I want to change the future. I know you all want to as well… and I only wish that what you just asked for isn’t just forgiveness, but for a better future.” He smiled. “We’re in this together. I taught you all that working together is the way to progress, haven’t I?” A hearty laugh left Andrew as tears trickled down his cheeks freely. “If you could understand me now… I would tell you that that’s why I’m human… and why you’re all just as human as I am pony.”

Equine noises greeted Andrew from within the rain’s cacophony. But he knew they were promises.

“Then let’s go. We have a natural order to topple.”

A great thunder pounded the earth. A splash of water from a flurry of wings flickered droplets. A faint glimmer from the tops of the crowd emanated brightly. Andrew turned to face the assembled ponies. They stood steadfast before him, the foals peering up with hopeful smiles, and their parents looking onward, prepared for the worst. The Keeper could see it, though, the hope shining from behind each pony’s eyes. And deep down, he knew he could fulfill those hopes, but for once, it wasn’t through destiny, it wasn’t through fate.

He had faith.

And faith… faith in each other…

That, was true power.

The gods would know what it meant to live, and it would be through the hands and hooves of mortals.

The mortals would nevermore falter.

The plan began simply; this was still a new land to them, and it needed to be tamed. Though they had established a foothold under Andrew’s guidance, the new plains to the north of their old forestland home still held great terrors. The ponies were reunited now, so no longer were there roaming pegasi seeking to harm the herd’s ways, but the problem of the spiders and other ravenous beasts remained ever present. Andrew saw it now; they would have to go to war, but for the ponies this meant for an entirely different strategy.

His eyes flickered to the soggy fires of the camp. “That’ll work.”

The development of a new home would take time, but the ponies and their Keeper could work with that.

’Establishment,’ Andrew thought to himself. ’That’s the way we do it.’

Cobblestones lined the path to a thriving society, and the human knew where they needed to begin; the herd needed to ensure that their homeland would remain a safe haven for their people. These ponies did not have the numbers to hold their own against the horde of the gods’ foul mortals, even with the herds combined. No, this required a new dynamic; the Keeper and his herd could not go this alone. Andrew thought back to the deer, thought to the thundering of hooves across the eastern mountains; they were new families, new alliances, and they could be formed now and strengthened with time. If this was a war against the gods, then they needed an army and like-minded allies.

This would be the security of the land.

Andrew glided forward, his ponies carefully following him into the warm sanctity of their cave. They remained silent as the Keeper continued to think. They had faith in him. Their patience was unwavering, and as they watched his eyes scan the world beyond their home, they trusted in him. A flock of warm bodies pressed up against the Keeper, each pony doing their hardest to show their trust to the human.

Even as Andrew remained silent, the ponies knew he was thankful for their comfort.

The assurance of their land’s safety was but one keystone. What the ponies needed most was insurmountable evidence that they could keep their flock well fed and grow both as a people and in number. There would be many things to teach them, and even if he could only do so much, there was always time for them to learn on their own; they would redevelop a society, not one of humanity, but one unique from anything the two species had ever encountered in their worlds. It would rely on the most primitive of societal techniques, ones that Andrew had only the faintest clue of how to teach: planting crops to feed, refining materials to build stronger homes, the creation of a stronger leadership to organize themselves.

This would be the security of the home.

Even after establishing these fundamental securities, he knew that their fledgling society would easily fall without proper guidance; he had a great trust in Mint, Storm, and Brown’s abilities to lead, but he feared they would not be enough to grow. It struck him; the youngest minds would be the most influential in the creation of new ideas to prevent societal stagnation. The Keeper would have to teach the ponies to the best of his ability of everything he knew, but also record it for them to pass down. It would require the efforts of more than just him, and it all began to root down in his desire to learn the language of the ponies. Once his time came, it would be up to the young to continue his teachings and to develop their own.

This would be the security of the knowledge.

A great future would await the ponies were their establishments to remain as pillars in their society, but Andrew felt the outline remained incomplete; what kind of tower held only three pillars? And then it struck him.

He blinked. A tender warmth had enveloped his lower half. The people around him looked up, and upon his thoughtful gaze, released him and stepped back. The faith in their eyes shimmered once more; each cloudmaster, each willhorn, each hornless.

These were ponies, not humans.

Society itself was an establishment. These ponies were all individuals working together, and each had their own unique quirks to go with them. If they were truly to be united, they had to understand themselves. That had been the Keeper’s fatal flaw all along; he had viewed the ponies through a single lens, never considering that they themselves might have had their own lenses. Andrew had to approach the ponies as what they were; a people with abilities he had only wisps of information for. Though they had been learning from the human and he in turn learning from them, it would require a much more serious and thorough process if the ponies were to truly create a society where they could live among each other. Even then, that would not be enough; to learn and understand themselves was only one part of the whole. Each pony would have to understand what made them strong, weak, motivated, depressed. The Keeper would learn what his ponies were, and he would help them understand who they were.

He would maintain the security of the individual.

Outside, the maelstrom continued to wail at the camp.

But it was breaking.

The ponies were quiet as Andrew stepped out into the rain. Even without his staff, they could still see the way he held himself; tall, imposing, and contemplating. None of the ponies questioned him as he looked up into the dark clouds above, a deep scowl on his face. Immediately, the rain slammed downwards in far greater force, and a great whispering hiss rose up amongst the noise of the agitated storm; the terrible sound was immortal, a song no mortal creature should have had to endure. The Keeper’s eyes flickered in a flash of light as green as the meadows.

The whispering hiss died.

Pouring rain slipped to a trickle in seconds, for it was no more. As the sky lightened, the ponies emerged into the soggy plain lands to meet the human. They saw that he was smiling now, and as his gaze dropped to meet theirs, they could see it was a warm and loving beam of emotion.

His eyes twinkled with a shining green gleam as he spoke. “Fear no gods.”

And the sun rose for ponykind.

40 - From Their Land

From Their Land

There was a great trepidation among the assembled warriors.

If they could be called that.

Before them all, great plumes of flame wafted upwards. A good deal of the ponies seemed hesitant to approach, but Andrew couldn’t blame them; after what they’d experienced in the Greenland, there was no doubt in his mind that this amount of fire was worrying. The more experienced firestarters however, were more than happy to tend to the fires as the ponies waited for the last batch of warriors to arrive.

Not too far away, a great herd of ponies and deer crested a hill.

A broad grin broke across Andrew’s face at the sight of Mint. “That’s my mare.”

The unicorn trotted up to the teenager, who greeted her by combing his hand through her mane; she replied with a nuzzle to his arm. Mint trot off to see to Greeny, who had secured himself as one of the ponies responsible for a roaring fire. The Keeper allowed the ponies returning with the deer to disperse, and for his part he approached the cervines.

A deal had already been negotiated between the ponies and deer a day prior. Even after the fact, Andrew remained surprised; he hadn’t expected the deer to be so willing to cooperate, especially with how dangerous and strange the plan must of have seemed to them. There were mutual benefits to the plan of course, but the amount of deer that had volunteered to come along was quite generous for what had been organized.

“I’m glad to see you all here.” Andrew emphasized the statement with a neat bow.

They bowed in kind.

Andrew had quickly opted on a new plan for language in this world; he would try to learn the language of the natives first. Of course, he couldn’t speak their language, considering the fact most ponies and deer spoke in various degrees of ‘animal sounds’ he had no hope of fully emulating, but he figured that he could get the basic gestures and tone down at the very least. More of his lessons would come later in time, but for now he would stay simple; tones and gesture would be his language for now.

“This is the main idea,” the Keeper began firmly. He led the deer over to one of the fires. Incidentally, the firepit belonged to Greeny; the stallion smiled up at him, and Andrew smiled back.

Stooping downwards, the human picked up the mainstay of the makeshift arsenal. “We’ll be using these,” he gestured to the large pile of bark-tipped torches, “and you all—” a swift, sweeping motion across the ponies and deer, “will do this...” He carefully lit the branch and held it up for all of them to see. A wave of excited huffs wound throughout the new arrivals, and Andrew was all too glad to hear it.

He handed the torch to Greeny and continued. “We’ve already split into several groups.” The Keeper broadened his smile further and gestured to some of the other fires. “They’ll tell you more of what you need to know. We’ll be leaving here shortly.” On cue, each one of the firestarters began carefully herding groups of both ponies and cervines away. From where the teenager stood, he could see the quick primers on torch-wielding were going smoothly.

The sky was perfect; far above, the air was clear of cloudy blemish for miles. Now it was certain, for the weather would hold; their land would be secured.

Andrew let a breath loose.

He was there at the front of the herd, torches flaring and hearts thumping in tandem.

The forest loomed at them, daring an attempt.

And the mortals answered.

The Keeper let loose a yell that was quickly buried underneath the thunderous sound of hooves. The rough terrain bit at his heels as he leapt over scattered stones and scraggy brambles, but he pushed onwards to keep pace with his ponies; they were quickly gaining ground. Soon, they found themselves away from the bright plains and in the shady homeland of the spiders. Andrew held his torch aloft, an illumination in the darkness that made up this dark and decrepit portion of the woods, and three dozen more blazed alongside it.

Deeper and deeper their force drove into the territory. Just as he had scouted earlier, the spiders on the inner edges of the forest were there; however, they were now on the rebound. Behind him, the tempest of ponies and deer shook the unfathomably large webs adorning the deep forest’s gangly trees. The herd moved as one, splintering off momentarily to push against any beasts that came too close, but never too far. The pegasi held the front, the earth ponies the rear, and the unicorns at the center of it all. It was a well-oiled machine to Andrew, but to the ponies and deer, their Harmony oozed life into the dead forest.

Ahead, the spiders had coalesced into a wriggling black mass and mostly come to a halt. As the party drew closer, the situation became clear.

There was only so far they were able to travel before the walls of the encroaching mountain began to push in on them; a cavern was the end of the line for the spiders. One-by-one they squeezed past each other, desperately retreating into the abyssal void carved into the mountain. The Keeper's herd leveled out in neat rows behind him and their leaders. Each pony and every deer clung taut to their torches, unsure of what to do as they observed the demons from afar.

When the last spider had disappeared into the cave, Andrew still stood heaving from the chase.

"That's not... going to work. We need to keep them out of here for good. If we just leave now, they might stay in that cave but odds are they won't. We're gonna need to solve this before it just gets as bad as before."

He took a moment to recollect himself, eyes scanning the environment for some kind of clue on how to proceed. The forest opened up in the natural alcove, leaving the looming cliffs in plain sight. Scattered about, the mist of a plan began to develop.

Silently, the Keeper trudged forward, followed closely by Mint. The mare matched her gait alongside the human and peered up into his eyes.

"Wait."

The herds watched curiously as Andrew began to unsteadily scale the cliff. He had chosen the smoothest incline available, but it was still no easy feat; the teenager was a runner, not a climber. However steep it was, he managed to reach the top, but more importantly, his goal. With his back against the stony outcrop and his feet pressed up against the large boulder, the human began to push.

The ponies had begun to creep closer when the rock went tumbling down.

A tremendous crack ruptured through the miniature valley. The clash of stone on stone was a usually terrifying notion to a pony, signifying an oncoming rock-slide or the impromptu weapon of a clever hydra. There and now, it signified a triumphant victory. And it was just the beginning; the rock had come to a clean rest at the mouth of the cave, and Andrew was already working his way to another boulder.

Hugging the cliff as he shuffled along, the Keeper gestured to the ponies and deer gathered below. "Mint, Blackie, Brown! Help!"

The ponies and deer were quick to organize themselves once more; torches found themselves scattered on the stones as they went to work. While Blackie soared upwards to assist Andrew, several other teams of pegasi scattered about to push other stones down the mountain. The earth ponies—under Brown's guidance—carefully maneuvered each boulder into a perfect fit in the cave's entrance, and some began digging at the dirt on the edge of the clearing to fill in the gaps left behind. The deer assembled at the mouth of the cave and the edge of the clearing with their torches at the ready. For the unicorns, however, Mint's horn was alight in an overwhelming brilliance brightened further by her own herd's horns. As Andrew and Blackie made for the next boulder, he bore witness to the unicorns; the crunch of roots being torn from the soil and the wafting bark aroma of the uprooted tree was a sight and smell experienced by all in the clearing.

Packed in by the earth ponies' mystically stable dirt, covered in stones dropped by pegasi, and encompassed by the husk of a hulking dead oak, the demons were finally locked away.

Andrew was gently deposited before his flock by a pair of pegasi. Everyone around wore relieved smiles, and the hugs were in surplus. Before he could find his bearings, the human found himself wrapped up in a mob of hugging equines. He celebrated alongside them with booming laughter as he scooped up pony after pony into his arms. The largest threat to their land had been sealed away, and from the sturdy look of their barrier, it was going to be a very long time.

Soon they would return to their New Greenland, for the time of pony-kind had come.

41 - Their Home Was Built

Their Home Was Built

There was a lot one could do in a year, but the Keeper found it simply unfathomable just how much a herd could accomplish in the same time-frame.

Andrew had secured the perfect position to watch over his ponies as they toiled over the fields planted months ago. It had been an arduous journey to find crops that could feed the ponies, but the discovery of some sort of alfalfa reinforced the supply of wheat already native to the area. From what the faces of the ponies told him, Mint and Storm made a mean groat porridge.

The young man was shaken from his reverie by a flurry of splashes in the river below. He trudged down to the bank and waited patiently. The trap sprung easily as Andrew removed the net’s anchor. Discarding the stick, he rushed into the river, pulled the net shut, and dragged it onto the shore. Inside, a great deal of sunfish—and even a catfish—floundered.

Smiling to himself as he worked, he carefully placed a few of the sunfish and the lone catfish in his basket and released the rest. The net trap found its way back in the river, secured by the stick, and primed for the next morrow. Satisfied, Andrew made his way back to the village.

While there was no immediate need for a wall anymore, the Keeper had found it crucial to maintain a perimeter for their village. In fact, the wall had been doubled in size, with the cracks in its armor reinforced by the earth ponies’ mud brick. The area it covered now was vast, but Andrew felt it would expand even further in the coming months. The entrance popped out at the human as he approached, for a chaotic blur of working and playing ponies zipped past every now and then. As he approached, he was suddenly surprised by the appearance of Lemon.

The unicorn whined at him; it was a sound filled with terror.

His eyes wide, Andrew hurried after Lemon's retreat into the compound.

At the sight of Lemon's terrors, Andrew laughed with relief. The unicorn was not pleased with the reaction.

Someone had let a bear in, and they had also given the foals complete reign over its body. The brown grizzly was overwhelmed by the amount of
pony foals as it lay on its back, eyes closed as it tried its best to soak in the noon-day sun. Andrew ruffled Lemon's mane—once more to much
pony displeasure—and approached the bear. The foals immediately scattered at the sight of the Keeper, sounding off with playful shrieks and shouts as they dispersed. The grizzly's eyes cracked open, and after spotting the human, it rolled over and stood stretching.

"Visiting our little village, huh? Well, it's good that you happened by right now. I think I owe you something for what you did for me a long while back." Setting the basket down, he withdrew the large catfish and held it up. "For the two fish I owed ya. It's the least I could do."

Flashing him a smile, the bear took the offered fish and settled back down. It let out a content grunt. As soon as Andrew was gone, the brown mass was once more surrounded by foals who took no mind to the grizzly's meal.

Lemon joined the human as he made his way over to one of the newest buildings. It was still in progress, as evident by the multiple unicorns hard at work, but the mud-brick hut was coming together. Near the old den, the first building—a small silo connected to a larger hut—had been where much of the village's cooking and food storage was centered; it had also been designed by Andrew. This time, the yellow unicorn had taken charge of architecture, and the Keeper found it quite the ambitious project; it was much larger, and even had plans for a sloped roof. While he had done much to learn the visual and auditory signs to better understand his ponies, he still had yet to discover what exactly was so exciting about the building. He figured he would find out when the time was right.

Leaving Lemon behind, the Keeper made his way over to the food hut with his basket of fish. The tantalizing scent of porridge lingered around the building. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Mint emerged from the hut. She wore a wide grin as she nuzzled Andrew; he responded by drawing a free hand through her mane. After a moment, Storm's head popped out of the doorway.

"I hope you guys don't mind if I hijack your kitchen for a little bit."

Mint let out a little whuff and turned back. Storm gave a tired smile to Andrew and stepped aside to allow them entry.

The village kitchen was a quaint place; however primitive it was, memories of learning to cook alongside ponies had cemented the place as one dear to the teenager's heart. As he went to work preparing a fish with one of the stone knives, the two mares returned to splitting their grains and eyeing the clay pot on the fire. It was a soft and quiet environment, filled with the aroma of fish, the crackle of simmering oats, and the warm touch of the fire pit. It was tranquil enough for Andrew to fall asleep, but he held himself high; the work wasn't over, not by a long shot.

Night happened upon him quickly. A common occurrence at the village now were great nightly gatherings. Food was plenty, and the atmosphere was thick with joy and peace. It kept spirits up, provided a time of respite for the ponies who'd worked long and hard through the day, and more importantly, was a tradition created by them. The Keeper was very proud of his ponies, and they too were proud of themselves. Together, they talked and played long into the night, dimming the outer fires until they all surrounded one central fire in union. Sometimes, a group of deer would arrive to bask in the glow of the great bonfire, but as of late, a new group had begun appearing.

The eastern equines had been adverse to approaching the village, but the pony-tended fires were too much of a curiosity for them to resist. At first, they had sent in a few mares from their herd to investigate. Then came the stallions. Soon enough, the foals of the east were brought to the Greenland Village.

A gradual hum began to wave through the ponies on this night, and Andrew stopped talking to listen. A warm glow enveloped him; it was an intimately familiar feeling, one he'd last experienced with the carved tooth that still sat in the den. It was a song, and all the ponies had begun to sing softly in the night. Like a wolf's howl, the meaning was lost to the human, but tonight he no longer felt mystified.

With words from between worlds, the Keeper sang the ponies' song.

43 - Through Their Individuality

Through Their Individuality

It was a story told a thousand times in a thousand different ways. It was immutable, unchangeable, decisive. It was the story of how the pony tribes came together to create their village. Tall Tale was its name, given to it by their Keeper. Once, they called him their Bushkeeper, for it truly fit the name of their residence. But their kingdom became so much more than that, and the Keeper was born anew.

Between the great waves of a vast sea, the towering peak of a mountain twice conquered, and the ridge between them and a ripe world, the ponies of Tall Tale rose to fight the great beasts that plagued the land of Equinis. Their warriors rose to fight the terrors of the Sky Gods, and the beasts returned to their masters with the thunderclaps of the powerful pegasus clan, the seemingly irreversible devastation left by the earth-shaping ponies, and the blinding intensity of each unicorns’ blow.

Tall Tale became the safe haven for the tribes, and the home of their Keeper.

For years, the Gods prodded deeply into discovering what had caused the once-distant tribes to unify. They knew of the Keeper, but could he have truly been so powerful as to cause this?

Eventually, the Keeper himself came to relinquish an answer. He told them the story told a thousand times. They told him that they’d heard it. He told them to wait. They were impatient, but allowed him to continue, all too eager to discover the secret to reconstructing their power.

With a name lost to time, the Keeper told them of the world beyond their own. They had known of this world, known that it required crossing the great sea of black that set the stage for every moon in Equinis, but not of the true machinations that the Keeper had brought from that world with him. He told them the stories of the earliest beginnings of that world, and how eventually the youngest minds had become the old, then been reborn, and how after endless amounts of moons that he had been born as the youngest mind. He told them the story of countless civilizations like the ponies’ own, and how those minds had come together to form their own kingdoms, and how each one faced its own kind of celestial affair with impunity. The Keeper came to the Sky Gods that day, and told them that this was how worlds were meant to be. Mortals would live, die, and overcome. No matter what came of their fight to keep the mortals suppressed and themselves in power, eventually it would be given to their rightful owners.

The Gods were angry, knowing that for the time the Keeper was correct; their power had been spread far and wide among the mortals. Yet, like the mortals they still viewed as foolish, they held onto a hope that the Keeper would be wrong. They asked him why a mortal like him had truly come before them that day, and he replied in a most strange manner. He told them that he was a God just as them, but one spread across a thousand minds. He was a seed, and just as a seed of grass gave birth to life, he had given the ponies their right to life.

God-given, he called it.

God-taken, they replied.

From their council the Keeper departed, back to the kingdom filled with the mortals that had given him the power to speak with them. They considered the Keeper’s words heavily, and were relentless in their waking fury. Disasters and beasts came to the sole kingdom of Equinis to destroy what pony-kind had built, but the vast union the Keeper had created was just as the Gods had feared. They drowned in their unfathomable anger, and the ponies came to meet each outburst with the soft touch of their communion. It seemed impossible to the Gods that with such a solidified union they were able to draw out the abilities each tribe had once relied on for themselves. Ever-still, they searched for the answer to reclaiming their power, ignorant of the fact that the Keeper had given it to them.

On the fateful day that their union shattered, the tribes separated once more. With their union more apart than ever, the Gods sought to end the mortals once and for all. But the Keeper's plan had worked, and across time, the remnants of their union remained.

And a thousand moons later, they celebrated it not as the creation of a kingdom, but as their day of Harmony.

Till Sleep Claimed Him

My eyes drifted.

How many years had it been? I can’t recall. It had been long enough to have this society develop in this land of ponies. Which was long enough for them to give me this bed to lie in, and this ceiling to look at.

I scanned the ceiling once more. This was one of the newer bunkhouses, designed by the son of one of the earth ponies… Orange was a good father; he’d groomed his son into becoming a pillar of the community. The constant influx of revolutionary inventions in the orchards and in Tall Tale’s architecture was evidence of that. Each beam stretched out below the thatched-roof above was immaculately carved, and when I squinted, small carvings of ponies and aspects of their lives could be seen, all just as carefully made. It was far better than anything I could have done myself, had I been the one to teach it to them.

But just like everything else, they had learned to operate without me. They still called me their Keeper, but they treated me like Andrew.

Andrew, the old man.

I unclenched my fists. “I swore,” I whispered.

Two weeks have passed now, and days since the herbal grasses and medicines have been able to quell the pain. Bedridden, though, a far more eternal pain leeched; I was ensnared in the worst trap of all: my thoughts.

“I’m being left behind.”

I was a farce. They hadn’t really needed me. They still would have reached this point without me. When I was young, sure, I would’ve never said that, but the truth stands bare to me now, decades down the line. Once, we had been an aspiring settlement. Now? A small kingdom, and me—the Keeper of the kingdom—little more than a figurehead. Tall Tale and the surrounding villages grew rapidly without me, and technology I had never thought to conceptualize was being disseminated faster than I could be introduced to it all.

The conflicts, the rise to ‘power.’ I’d been there. Led the charge. But I had not been the way forward, I was just that, an instigator. An accelerant to the embers of fate.

“I’m sick of this sickness,” I said to one of the ponies as they applied the last herbal remedies for the day. “When do I get out of here?”

The pony smiled kindly. They were genuine, but they had no words to offer me beside "Goodnight."

I closed my eyes. I opened them. I squeezed them shut.

This is no sickness. The pain is completely within. There is no cure.

A hum. It came from the doorway, and filtered across the room. It was pure, magical, and eased the pain. I opened my eyes once more, and began to sit up.

“Bushkeeper.”

A shudder passed through me. That voice.

I weakly slung myself onto my feet as the pain resurfaced. I grabbed at the carved staff by the head of my bed, and pulled it into both hands. I turned, and crept towards the doorway with the staff pointed outwards.

“You can’t be here!” I gasped.

She spoke with the same voice, but her body was not the same; for the first time since we’d met, Harmony stood without a puppet. The god had taken the form of an impossible tribe of pony: a tall winged-unicorn. One thing stood vividly different, however: where once she had been surrounded by an ethereal blue miasma, Harmony stood now in vibrant hues: a red mane and tail, and a pristine alabaster coat. The mist was gone, though she still appeared ghostly transparent.

“You… you haven’t shown yourself in years! You should be gone!”

She didn’t move.

My grip tightened. I looked at the ponies’ beds to my right, and placed myself between them and her. “You won’t hurt them! Not anymore!”

Harmony’s visage softened; her visage creased outward, and a slight frown was set in place. She stepped forward.

“No…” I said. I shook as she stepped closer. “Stay back!”

She stopped halfway, and there she stood still, her face still locked into that look.

“I have come with a promise.”

“What?”

“Time is meaningless to ‘us’. But we have spent a significant amount of time looking for a way to be rid of you, Keeper. To reclaim our power that you have awoken in your diaspora.”

My face visibly hardened, but Harmony continued gently. “But a far greater power has already laid claim to you.”

“What do you—?”

“Tonight, you will draw your last breath.”

Silence reigned. I stood frozen as her face contorted further.

I lowered my arms. “Why should I believe you? You brought ruin to the Greenland, sought to destroy what we built, and continued to do so for years after!” As I finished, I realized my lungs were heaving. A cough erupted from me before I could hold it back, and I released my grip on my staff to hold my chest.

“You have no reason to trust me,” Harmony admitted. “Just as ‘we’ had no reason to trust mortal creatures with power. But ‘I’ have changed. Because of you.”

I let my eyes soften, but reaffirmed my stance. “You’re not possessing my ponies anymore,” I bit.

I watched Harmony search my face. She spoke quietly as her eyes landed on mine: “Mint’s legacy will not be forgotten. I promise you that.”

My breath hitched as I recoiled. “Don’t you dare say her name!” I snapped. Reflexively, I turned around and looked to where the ponies were sleeping. My eyes widened, and I walked over to them. I crouched over the blue-green unicorn closest to my side of the room; she had stopped breathing. I checked her pulse, and waited.

Nothing.

And then something.

I turned back to Harmony and stayed where I was. “What did you do to Minty?” I hissed. My eyes strayed as I searched the rest of the room; all the other ponies’ barrels weren’t moving. “To… to all of them?” I muttered aghast.

“We are in my time,” she answered as she crossed the room. As I stood again, she stopped. “Your ponies are not hurt, and will not be; the only one affected by this passing is you. This grants us… more time.”

Her face was still lit by that frown when I returned my focus to her. I scanned her with my eyes, and she let me do so without rebuttal.

“You want to talk.”

“Yes. I wish to speak with Andrew.”

I shuddered as my name passed her lips. “He’s listening.”

She sat down on her haunches—and more out of reflex from years of lowering myself to speak with my ponies—I lowered myself to the floor and sat, too. From where she sat, she loomed over me, but there was no fiery anger in her eyes, and her tone remained easing and gentle.

“I do not associate with the Sky Gods any longer.”

I was immediately at attention. “Why?”

She sighed. “Their anger... is unquenchable. They incessantly disparage your name and your intentions. They have sought to understand what you meant when you once addressed us directly. 'We' have sought to understand what you meant by your parting words.” A laugh bubbled out of her, surprisingly natural. “I was envious of you, an affliction I never could have seen affecting one such as I. We had tried desperately to understand you, and many have gone mad. But I know now what you meant.” She paused. “You were able to unite your own kind, when we could not.”

"...Are the other gods gone, then?"

Harmony shook her head. "No. The gods, separate as they may be, will no doubt come together when your herd are at their weakest. I am sure of this. You have done much to prepare for this event, but the work is never over."

“...Harmony,” I began. Harmony's ears bristled. “If I can really trust your word, what am I supposed to do? You're practically telling me that the Sky Gods are prepared to gloat over my... my passing.” I sagged. “And if you're right, then there's nothing I can do.”

“You are not hopeless, Andrew. You are hope itself. A god of your own, as you once said. The power your herd draws from.” She stood and walked to where I sat. “Ultimately, you have completed your vision, and the Sky Gods have achieved nothing. They are in ruin without me, but they will only be held back by this power vested in your... ponies. I will stand vanguard over your work for as long as your herd wields my power.” Harmony reached a hoof out, and placed it on my shoulder. It was warm to the touch. “This is my promise, and one I intend to keep.”

I grabbed her hoof firmly. She was real flesh. “Please, don’t be lying to me.”

“You have done great things, Andrew. You are no pinnacle of perfection, but it is from you that I have learned that even gods cannot be perfect. You have done the best with the power at your disposal, and made them available to the ones in your keeping. You have sown the seeds to a greater design, one in need of endless time and care. You have created a greater paradise than the one we had envisioned. I seek to make amends with you, Keeper. Your herd will not be forgotten, nor be treated wayward by the world. Your actions will withstand your time.”

My eyes watered. I breathed, and collapsed into her. Harmony embraced me.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“Speak,” she responded. “Speak your heart to me.”

“I can’t help them.”

“You have. You set them on this path.”

“But they’ve been doing all this on their own.”

“And they would have never seen the chance without your guidance.”

“And yet you say that they won’t be safe.”

“My boons saw fit to seek you, and now I will place my boons with them. You worked with what you were given, and you have done more in a task that I had once deemed impossible.”

Harmony slid away from me, but I continued on. “I tried so hard. I did all I could to raise them. But I feel I haven’t done enough. And I never will be enough! I could have done so much more, but I’ve been held back by… by… myself. I got old so quickly, outdated and useless. They stayed young, aspiring and alive. They create such wonderful things, Harmony. You know. You’ve seen what they’re doing. What they’re capable of! I wasn’t able to help them anymore, and now I’m too old to do anything more for them, too old to even stand beside them, too old to stay any longer. Why was I destined to come here if it all had to end in this… this pain?”

“You have struggled for them, Andrew.”

“I have, but—”

“And you have succeeded. As insignificant as your words and actions may seem on the surface of the world, this land is marked by the steps of your kind. Your journey was not the first to draw power from the Sky Gods, but it was the first in this world to truly succeed. You have come here and accomplished what many mortals have failed to achieve. You have ventured into this veritable land, fought the ancient powers of the gods that have destroyed other mortals for less, and overcome to create a new breed of mortal. Ask yourself, where does this pain truly stem from? Your disdain for your actions, or from your fear of a world where you cannot be present?”

I said nothing. I already knew my answer.

“You must struggle before you find peace. You have found your peace, and have lived in it. But your words and final days have told me the whole, and unaltered truth. You wish for time. Time to watch the new world you’ve shaped. To watch it grow, prosper. To see the consequences of your words, your teachings, your ponies. Where they will go, how they will grow, and what they will remember of your name. But now at your time’s end, you feel you have accomplished none of these things, and will never know of these consequences. You have used your life to craft a prophecy, and you wish to follow your tenets to their end. But you cannot.” Harmony extended a hoof. “Perhaps you have suffered enough.”

I took it.

She led me through the room back towards my bed. I sat down, and she stood beside me, levitating my staff away from me to lean it gently against the bed's headrest. “I don’t want to go.”

“I understand. I did not want to let my power be freed, either.”

I let out a mellow laugh. “It was… addicting. To be part of it all. To watch it grow. To be the one growing it while they followed. And then they stopped following, and they went on with their new lives without me.”

“Mortals change, Andrew. You—and now I—know this.”

“Yes,” I said, looking out across the bunkhouse where my ponies slept. “And I guess… I guess I am happy with how it all turned out.” I smiled.

From the corner of my eye, Harmony smiled, too. “I am... happy, to hear that.”

I sat there, watching over my ponies. Harmony waited quietly.

“Well, what now?“ I asked.

“Now, I have one last gift for you, Andrew. You might find it as wonderful as the gift of leading your herd into prosperity.”

I looked at her.

“I have been watching you since your first ripples in the state of this world, absorbing your thoughts and studying them. And I have made a collection of it. A collection that allows me to offer you this gift.”

“I offer you a dream. A dream of this life. A chance to relive your time with your ponies once more. To watch them grow, to watch them prosper, to be there with them to the end, once more.”

“Tonight, you will sleep. I will watch over you. You will dream of your lifetime. Of your prophecy. Of your ponies. Of this world and the time between.”

“And you will pass. Your ponies will continue without you, but you will always be a part of their mortal heritage. You will see to the past, and I will see to the future. This is my promise to you, as the eternal keeper of your ponies. You will sleep, and you will live this long dream.”

“Do you wish to dream this dream, Andrew?”

“Yes,” I whispered, barely comprehensible.

But she heard; Harmony lit her horn in a swirl of magic, and I laid down.

The carvings of the ponies above me smiled down, and the carving of me among them waved, too.

Harmony’s light bounced off the cloudiness in my eyes, and I leaned my head back further.

I shut my eyes. Through my eyelids, the light grew. Intenser, closer, and closer.

I thought. Of my life before and after. Of both worlds. Of my ponies.

Soon, all that I sensed was nothing. Nothing, save for a hum.

And I thought no more.

A hum. Impossibly incandescent, the hum filled the air, and so too did the scent of deodorant, fresh linen, and the dense aura of sugary drinks. All of this wafted in from the back of the minivan, just as the passing woodland welcomed the visitors to its sanctuary; the forest lush with green and brown, earthy and natural. The unnatural dirt road beneath the metal carapace lashed out at the battered car’s wheels, but the occupants responded with mirth and rancorous laughter, and the car with its lingering, ever-building hum.

Andrew woke.

“Looks like shotgun’s finally awake!”

Andrew turned. His friend’s face focused after a moment.

“You good, man?”

Andrew’s eyes drifted out the front window of the van. The trees shimmered in the early morning sunlight, and he reached a hand out over the dashboard, slowly turning it over in the warmth. He yawned, but the sound was buried underneath the cacophony in the back-seats. “Yeah... yeah, I’m good.”

“Ha, well you still sleep like a brick.” The corner of Andrew’s mouth ticked up at that. “Hey, do me a favor and check the GPS for me. Road's been full of potholes, and I don't want to walk the rest of the way.” As if to emphasize his point, his hands rolled as he maneuvered the van around one of the gouges in the earth.

Andrew peered over his friend’s arms and squinted at the device. The green-and-blue map on the display was featureless, save for one yellow road winding through the unmarked forest. His heart thumped in his chest, but he thought nothing of it; the end of the road was ahead, and their hike through the hinterland was about to begin.

Grinning, Andrew turned to the rest of his friends.

“Just one more turn!”

Author's Note

Click here for Post-Epilogue Content

Prologue

"Guys?"

The laughter of the teenager's friends had finally dawdled off into the distance behind him, leaving a large portion of the forest silent.

"Guys?" Andrew called out again. There was no answer.

Groaning, the man went to retreat, but a spark caught his attention. Slipping forward a few more steps into the woods, he peeked into the brush ahead, curious about what he had seen. There was a slight chill to the air as he passed through the leaves, but Andrew didn't quite mind; he was more infatuated with the small glint of light that seemed to escape his vision at every moment of perfect clarity.

Back on the trail again, Andrew soon fell into a rhythmic step, the mystical phenomenon leading him further and further away from his friends, and deeper into the woods of the national park.

22 - The Northern Exodus

The Northern Exodus

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Andrew’s eyes traced over the crowded clearing. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he repeated. He counted the ponies again and again, making sure to split them up into their own categories; earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi. As he finished counting, it was just too much for him to handle.

'Twelve unicorns, ten pegasi, and fourteen hornless ponies. That makes thirty-six ponies, and nine of them are foals.' Andrew swallowed thickly; the idea that a fourth of the ponies he was responsible for were foals was terrifying. He didn’t want to see them hurt, but as he thought over that idea for a moment, his grip tightened on his staff. He wouldn’t let that happen.

“Andrew?” Andrew hobbled over to where Mint stood.

The mare’s eyes locked onto his own. ”Do you not hunger?”

He paused at that, feeling his stomach. He certainly knew that he should have felt hungry, but it did not appear to be the case. “I really don’t…” he muttered confusedly. Luckily, whatever spell had been cast upon Andrew’s words was able to translate through.

”You should eat,” Mint whimpered. ”We need you strong to lead us.” She paused. ”Where will you lead us, Bushkeeper?”

Andrew was instant with his reply. “North.” Andrew’s eyes flickered around the clearing at the ponies quickly depleting the thicket. “And yeah, I probably should eat.” Mint followed after him as he went over to a wall of berries. Below him, the ponies pecked at the lower portions of the bramble, allowing Andrew free range over the topmost berries. Removing his hood from his mouth, Andrew prepared to start tossing berries into the hood for the journey ahead, but took pause; the makeshift bag still reeked of fish.

All around him, the ponies pulled away from the smell. Blinking, Andrew turned, worried that the sudden smell of meat had thrown off the ponies. Instead, the ponies all looked surprised. Mint tugged on his sleeve.

”You eat fish?”

Andrew was hesitant. “Yes…?” He eyed the unicorns carefully. “You guys eat fish, too?”

“Yes,” Mint nodded, practicing her English.

Blackie stepped up to the two, bowing low. ”Let us know if you wish to consume fish; we are willing to oblige. Not often do we fish, but we happen to be well-versed in catching them.” By this time, the ponies around had resumed plucking berries from the bushes.

“Well, that’s neat.” With a smile, Andrew gave a respectful nod to Blackie, allowing the stallion to return to the grey herd leader. Andrew’s smile fell as his eyes landed on the mare; she was in worse shape than he had expected, and it was a wonder that the mare had even flown at all. Shaking his head, Andrew ignored the stench of fish emanating from his hood, opting to wash it in a safer place. He began to plop berries into the hood.

The mere thought of the clearing being unsafe reminded him of the dire situation that every creature within miles had been placed into.

Andrew rushed through placing berries into the bag, and after a quick snack of two dozen or so berries, he recounted the ponies around. There were still thirty six, and Andrew was certain that no ponies had been left at the fire. Still, he felt that it couldn’t hurt to ask.

Andrew eyed Greeny, and in a moment of fate, the two locked eyes. Greeny nodded, noticing that Andrew wished to talk. He trotted over, a respectful and questioning look in his eyes.

”Bushkeeper?”

“Is this everyone, Greeny?” Greeny took around, doing a count of his own. He gently pulled a unicorn mare out of the way to count the foals wrapped around her hooves. Greeny returned to Andrew.

”Yes,” Greeny relayed. ”All of our willhorns, at least.” Sighing, Andrew gave a thankful smile to Greeny and moved on to the earth ponies.

The burly, orange earth pony stallion met Andrew halfway across the clearing. His short red mane, bounced up and down as he inspected Andrew. Raising an eyebrow, Andrew opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you have all of your herd?” The stallion nodded, not even bothering to look back at the ponies behind him, but Andrew trusted him. Nodding, Andrew gave two pats to the stallion’s withers and went over to the grey pegasus mare on the ground.

Andrew was ready to give a name to the mare, but then realized that for the moment, all of the ponies could understand him. Squatting down, Andrew gave a small wave to Sparky, the colt standing by his mother’s side, then looked the mother in the eyes. “Do you have a name, fwalfa?”

Her ears perked up at that, and her eyes cracked open a tad. Name? she whinnied, exasperated. The word was foreign to her. ”I do not, Bushkeeper.”

”That’s interesting,” Andrew thought. ”They don’t have names…” Andrew remained squatting for a moment, thinking up a good name for the mare. “What do you think of Storm?”

Her ears twitched again. "Storm?"

“A name is kind of like… kind of like a title, like fwalfa, except everyone gets a name, at least where I come from.” Andrew smiled. “Storm is a good name.”

”So you will call me... Storm?"

Andrew nodded.

The mare looked so happy despite her weak smile. ”I… I thank you for that, Bushkeeper. Perhaps you could give... give names, for the rest of my herd?”

“You’re welcome, and maybe. But I have a question, Storm.”

”Yes?” she asked, not annoyed in the slightest by her continuously interrupted rest.

“Do you have all of your herd here with us?”

Wheezing, the mare lifted her head from the dirt and nodded. ”The falfa and I have put our differences away for the time in order to lead the entire flock to… to…”

“The north.”

The mare nodded, setting her head back down. ”The north… yes…”

Blackie nuzzled the mare, nipping at one of her ears gently. He pulled away to look at Andrew momentarily. ”Please, Bushkeeper, allow my mate to rest.”

“Alright.” Andrew prepared himself to leave, but paused for a moment. “And my name is Andrew.” He completed his move to his full height, smiling gently as he looked about the clearing. “And I’m the Bushkeeper,” he muttered quietly to himself.

“Andrew?” He jumped at the sound of his name. Turning to Mint, he held a hand to his chest.

“Don’t scare me like that!” Andrew sighed heavily. “Now, what do you need, Mint?”

”When do we leave, Bushkeeper?” Andrew looked up from their position near the center of the clearing. Up through the familiar hole in the canopy, the black smoke covered the entirety of the world from above. Plants would begin dying in this area if this kept up, and all Andrew could do was pray that nature would do something to balance itself, and soon.

“In a while,” Andrew said, returning his attention to Mint. “We need to let the herds rest and eat. I have a feeling that the land on the way to the north will be deprived of food and water.” He paused. “Do you want to go get some water with me, Mint?”

The mare smiled up at him. “Yes, Andrew. I would like that.”

“It’s still weird hearing you speak in two different languages at once.” Satisfied, Andrew led Mint out over the southern log wall of the camp and to the nearby stream.

He stuck his stick into the ground and uncapped his thermos, poured out the old water, and filled up anew; it wasn’t the water from a waterfall, but he would take whatever he could. Mint leant down towards the water and began to drink. As he finished capping off his thermos, he felt something pressing into his leg. Groaning in annoyance, Andrew put his thermos away and stood to pull out the marble orb from his pocket. When he had successfully yanked out the artifact, his eyes widened.

The marble was cracking.

He shoved off his pack and collapsed near the stream. Mint shot up at the sudden movement and clambered over to Andrew. Andrew had realized that the marble was a shell of sorts, and had immediately begun to work. She watched attentively as Andrew began to pick away at one of the cracks forming on the orb. After a minute of picking away at the crack with his fingernail, a chunk of the thin marble came flying off to reveal the center of the orb.

Andrew and Mint shared a glance before returning to the orb.

The amethyst within shimmered faintly as the rest of the marble flaked off easily. Andrew rinsed off the orb quickly in the stream, then gave it a quick once over.

“What’s going on with…” As he spoke, the orb grew fainter and fainter, the color quickly fading to gray. “Mint?”

“Yes, Andrew?” The orb pulsed faintly, dimming in coloration as they continued.

“Do you know what this—”

The orb turned to dust in the palm of his hand.

The fiery explosion of purple powder sent Andrew coughing. Mint ran slow circles with her hoof into Andrew’s back, which, while unusual, calmed the human down enough to recover his breath. His hand was still held out as the dust of the orb sat there, sparkling and mysterious.

“What the heck was that?!” Mint’s motions paused, and Andrew looked back at her in confusion. “What’s wrong, Mint?”

”I do not understand,” she whimpered. I do not understand you anymore! Andrew’s eyes widened as his head snapped back to the powdered orb.

The gift had been used up fully.

“No no no!” Andrew cupped two hands together under the dust and held it close. “That was so useful!”

Mint whinnied wildly as she pranced in place. ”I don’t understand you, Bushkeeper!”

“I know Mint, I know,” he cooed, dropping the powder immediately to hold Mint. His eyes remained locked to the powder as it sank into the water and dissolved. He felt hot tears dripping down the cheeks of his companion, so he forced himself away from the sight of the disappearing amethyst.

Quietly, the two sat there by the stream, both in despair at their lost communication. There was one thing they shared though, and by the end of his stay in the land of strange creatures, he was determined to exploit it fully.

Mint was as intelligent as him, and the other ponies were, too.

“I’ll teach you,” Andrew murmured, running a hand through her mane. “I’ll teach you to speak, to write, to be a leader.”

They didn’t leave the stream for a very long time.

Andrew looked back across the plains at the Berry Forest. He was going to miss the place of his arrival, but it was time to move on.

“Andrew,” Mint said, a tired look on her eyes from the earlier ordeal. We must move.

“Yes,” Andrew nodded. He was glad that he had at least taught Mint a few words, and as he turned around to continue walking west across the Greenland, he listened to the mare attempting to teach the ponies around her, including the pegasi and earth ponies, of the language that she and Andrew spoke. Andrew was proud of her; he could have chosen no better pony for the job, and it made sense as to why the mare had been made the fwalfa of the herd.

Andrew glanced around their surroundings. The blue sky above was slowly turning black due to the close ash clouds from the east, and the birds that Andrew had remembered soaring through the sky were nowhere to be seen. The mountains to the west seemed to grow further as the group moved, and so too did the tall, spiraling mountain to the east grow further. The group was quickly coming upon the new forest. Holding the front of the line of thirty-seven creatures, Andrew took a deep breath and stepped through into the new woods.

For a couple of hours, the forest was all but silent, completely vacated by its creatures. There was something calming about the woods and its silence, however, and Andrew made sure to enjoy the little reprieve from the harsh journey. More than once, Andrew recalled spotting the hint of a white tail through the trees, and it took all of his strength not to follow it. The apparent vision reminded him of the strange apparition that Harmony had given back his memories of.

Harmony... what was she doing right now?

Andrew thought long and hard about it, eyes scanning the forest for any predators that could pop out at any moment. Harmony could be sitting in the Fabal, watching over him, or she could be taking care of the burning plains and forest behind them now. Maybe Harmony wasn’t with him, and was in fact working against him. Various contingencies flooded through his mind, but he shook them all away; being paranoid was a surefire way to breaking down a leader’s mentality. If he wanted to keep the ponies safe, he would have to do as Harmony told him; stay sane, and stay pure.

Running a hand through Mint’s mane, Andrew led the ponies out of the forest and into a new area of grassland. The grass here was nothing like Andrew had ever seen before; a brilliant teal that matched perfectly with Mint’s fur. The ponies all around seemed delighted at this new finding, and as they settled down to chew the grass, Andrew found himself curious. He knew that his digestive tract lacked the ability to consume grass, but he was open to seeing what it tasted like. Plucking a few blades of the teal grass from the earth, Andrew popped them into his mouth, leaving them hanging like wheat stalks.

Immediately, his eyes went wide.

“Yeah… I’m gonna—” he began to pluck up handfuls of the grass and toss them into a pouch in his bag “—keep some of this for myself.”

After the short break, Andrew led the ponies towards the mountains north. The plains went for quite a while to the west, and it seemed like there wouldn’t be much on the other side. Going on his intuition, Andrew felt that past the northern mountains would be a safe refuge for the ponies to live. He ignored the pain in his leg and kept walking, determined to lead the ponies all the way there. After an hour of walking, the ponies and Andrew all stopped to watch the sun peek out from beyond the black clouds. Just being able to see the sun again gave all of them hope.

By the time the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, the moon nowhere to be seen through the trees to the east, Andrew’s legs felt ready to fail him. They had traveled a decent way from the south, just barely able to reach the small grove of trees that trailed along the edge of the mountains. As he stuck his stick into the ground and sat down, Andrew smiled up at the mountain. To the ponies around him, the looming obstacle would be impossible to pass, but Andrew wasn’t worried, he knew they could do it, so long as they all worked together.

Sparky, unlike the other foals, was dead set on making himself useful. Andrew could see him helping ponies from all of the herds settle down from the night; he helped the earth ponies dig a hole into a hill, helped to bring down some clouds for the pegasi to sleep on, which was quite the strange sight to see, and at the sight of the shivering unicorns, arranged a set of stones to form up a campfire. It was interesting to note that the earth ponies and pegasi did not look cold; the earth ponies most likely protected due to their huddled sleeping den, and the pegasi from their need for fur in high altitudes. Andrew was proud that Sparky was taking initiative as a child just beginning to grow into an adult, but as Sparky settled down near Andrew, the truth of the colt’s actions was brought to light.

He beamed up at Andrew, silent. It was endearing that the colt looked up to him, but just a little disappointing that he had done it to impress Andrew. Rolling his eyes, Andrew pat the colt on the head and pulled him close. Mint and Greeny were pressed up against each other on the other side of the campfire, Mint fast asleep whilst her mate worked hard on his latest addition to the carved bone. Lemon came up to Andrew and nosed him. Andrew paused in petting the colt he had forced into his lap and looked to the unicorn.

Lemon, for once in his life, looked happy. There was a toothless smile on the stallion’s face, and as he settled down next to Andrew and sank into his side, Andrew felt something surge into his heart. Already now, his presence was truly beginning to change the acts of the ponies around him. Storm, the pegasus herd leader, had apparently learnt from her ways of treating the others poorly, and Lemon had quieted down now in speaking down to the ponies. There was no doubt in Andrew’s mind that the ponies would soon be back to bickering behind his back, but it still felt nice to know that the ponies were at least trying around him.

As the colt fell asleep in his lap, and Lemon already snoring by his side, Andrew looked around their encampment, located near the edge of the trees. Thirty-six ponies, Andrew recounted. It still amazed him to no end that all these ponies were following him. He turned his gaze away and up to the stars. He had not been much of a stargazer back home, but with his extended stay out in the wilderness, stargazing had been growing to replace his previous nightly pastimes.

For hours, Andrew lay there, staring up into the stars. At some point, his neck had been strained enough to make him reflexively lie back to stare up at them. There was something captivating about the unfamiliar lights in the sky. With each star he jumped between, a small line would begin to trace itself across the sky. Just like many nights ago, he found the familiar flower and stick figure and let out a quiet laugh to himself. The constellations reminded him that in just a few days, he had turned the black colt into a devout follower; Sparky certainly didn’t mind being touched or touching Andrew anymore.

When Andrew fell asleep deep into the early morning, for the first time in forever, his dreams were sweet.

It turned out that the hardest part of a scaling a mountain was finding a place to start. They had made progress little by little up onto the cliffed-rock walls, and by the time the morning had turned to afternoon, the ponies and Andrew had only then found a way up. It certainly wasn’t easy for many of them, but with the help of the pegasi, paths were found up the cliffs and ponies were held up against walls to prevent them from falling. With each step up the mountain’s winding trails, Andrew cursed his limp more and more. It was by the time they had reached the second plateau that Andrew had given his walking stick to a pegasus to carry and begun climbing with both hands.

“I’ve got it,” he grunted, heaving himself up another wall. He leant down and began to help the ponies up and onto the third plateau. He was glad that they weighed very little, but still, pain still came to his leg in hot bursts.

“Bushkeeper.” Andrew locked eyes with Mint as he lifted her up. She shook her head once he had set her down. “No.”

Andrew heaved himself into a sitting position and scratched the back of his neck. “What?”

Snorting, Mint turned to the pegasi as they landed. “Pegasi.”

Blackie looked between Mint and Andrew, then nodded.

“Wait—” the pegasi came over “—wait what are you guys doing?” Harshly, Andrew was pulled into a kneeling position by two pegasi. “Ow!”

Mint walked up to Andrew as the two pegasi held him. ”Rest, Bushkeeper.” Slowly she brought her horn, lit with its blue magic, to Andrew’s forehead. Before Andrew could have a say in what was being done to him, he was out cold.

Groaning, Andrew rolled over. It was very cold, but nearby, he could hear the crackle of flames. In his sleepy state, he crawled closer to the fire.

He heard a whinny, but could not identify who had made the sound. Bushkeeper?

“Hwahbuh?” Andrew said, slumping down beside the flames. His eyes cracked open, and as he looked up into the eyes of Mint, he felt awareness flood into his mind. “M-Mint?”

Mint looked apologetic. ”Sorry.”

Andrew sat up, looking around with his hands on his knees. “Did you knock me out or something…” he trailed off. “Mint… are we…?”

Mint was quiet as Andrew stood shakily and looked over the edge of the plateau. Below him, he could see the foals from all three of the herds playing together on their own plateau. Ponies nearby trotted back and forth, leaving Mint and him alone on the high surface. As Andrew looked up, he could see the sun leaning towards the western portion of the sky, and it was with one glance to the south that Andrew realized where they were; they had reached the top of the mountain.

Andrew had been about to celebrate, but paused as he felt something along his leg. As he looked down, he realized his jeans were still on, but as he lifted his jeans up, he realized that a thick binding of teal grass had been wrapped around his calf. It felt cool to the touch, and as he began to rub at the grass, he noted that the coolness seemed to sink into his aching muscles. He tested his walk and found no difference in his limp. Sighing, Andrew drooped his arms. “So much for having my leg healed in my sleep.”

Mint pulled at his sleeve and brought him over to the edge where he had looked down at the foals and ponies below. Look, she ordered, nose gesturing towards the northern horizon. As Andrew looked over the lands below him, he felt his heart momentarily stop.

A vast river snuck up from the smaller green mountains to the north. Further off, he could see the beginnings of an icy wasteland and bright blue mountains, but his eyes were attracted to a giant mountain further off to the northeast. The mountain seemed to be made of pure snow, and it towered far past the few clouds and into the sky. It seemed to touch space itself, and Andrew had to hold everything in himself from shouting in awe. To the west was an ever-extending ocean, its coast lined by a great green grassland.

The grassland was lined with branches from the river coming down from the southern mountains. The land was full of large forests of green that Andrew could tell were teeming with life. The secluded valley was a beautiful sight to behold, and as Andrew sat there with Mint by his side, he collapsed and held onto her, tears dribbling into his eyes. His memories flashed back to an old family vacation, recalling a young Andrew looking over the beautiful Hanging Gardens and the nearby Tigris-Euphrates river system.

And he could see no difference between there and here.

As Andrew held onto Mint, ripples of joy began to shake his body. Mint smiled, glad to see their leader so happy to be halfway done with their journey, but Andrew was glad for another reason.

The land was bright and colorful, and it was the perfect birthplace for civilization.

Author's Note

I believe this was by far one of my most motivated chapters to write. Fingers were just... flying all over the place.

29 - Directions

Directions

Andrew stared down at the array of fish laid out before him. There were five of the rather large silver sunfish, and they were all his to consume. He looked up at the pegasi that had just dropped the fish, all smiling broadly. The teenager nodded with his own wide, beaming grin.

“Thanks guys.”

After their quick bows, the ponies left him to gut and cook his fish.

“Now then,” Andrew began, eyes trained on the fish. “How am I going to eat you…?” He licked his lips hungrily and picked up one fish. He paused and looked around briefly. Nobody came up to disturb him, and in his time of bliss, Andrew found a rock, poured some water from his thermos onto it, and got to work descaling the fish. The teenager was starving, but he was smart enough to clean his fish first.

Minutes later, his hands were damp with fish oil and guts, but he could care less. Spitting one of the fish with a stick from his hiking pack, Andrew sat eagerly by the fire and tended to roasting fish. His lips dripped with saliva, a byproduct of the heavenly aroma wafting through the air. His late-night cooking attracted the attention of more than a few ponies, and some of the more curious ones came over and sat by Andrew to ‘supervise.’ The teenager was tempted more than a few times to pet the ponies, but the state of his hands made him think twice.

By about eight at night, he had finished cooking each of the fish. An hour later, his stomach was filled with fish, but he remained hungry for more. His stomach rumbled eagerly, and so he moved on to fill it with berries and the water from his thermos. Frowning down at his hands, and dirtied bottle, Andrew decided to march off to the river to wash his hands. By that time, most of the ponies had fallen asleep and the fire that Sparky had started was beginning to die down. The teenager threw in the last of his firewood from his hiking pack, took off his hoodie and shirt to let them dry, then left to go find the river.

Thankfully, the night was peaceful. The crickets in the field around him chirped their swaying songs, and the few owls hooted in their hollows within the northern woods. Andrew adjusted the straps on his hiking pack as he walked, eyes glancing every now and then around the quiet field for a glance at any passing creatures. Nothing came to him on his journey to the river and back, and the night ended for Andrew with the crackling flames of the dying campfire.

As he awoke, hungering for more food and with a desire to slake his thirst, the teenager found himself alone in the camp with Greeny. The unicorn stallion was inspecting his keratin tooth, but not actively carving. Andrew yawned and stretched as he stood, prompting the unicorn himself to stand with sudden attention.

Greeny bowed low. “The herds await you, Bushkeeper.”

The Bushkeeper scratched his neck and looked around. “Yeah, where’d they go, Greeny?”

Greeny understood Andrew’s confusion. “They have moved to the river between the hills. Are you ready to pursue them?”

“I mean, why not?” Andrew groaned and shook his head. “Yes. I meant, yes.”

Nodding, Greeny patiently waited for Andrew to slip on his hiking pack, then took off at a decent pace towards the east.

As soon as the two crested the hill to the area, they bumped into the foals. Sparky was the most visible as he was the tallest of the foals. Andrew estimated him to be an adolescent at the very least, but that was as far as he could think before Sparky bowled the human over. Greeny chuckled and left the two to it.

“Bushkeeper! Where is your stick?” Sparky stepped off of the teenager, ears pressed down against his skull. “Sorry.”

Andrew stood with a laugh and ran his hand through the colt’s mane. “I don’t need that stick anymore, Sparky.” He paused, then pointed to the pony. “Sparky. Sparky.” Andrew pointed to himself. “Andrew. Andrew.”

“A… a name?” Sparky’s face scrunched up as he tried the word again. “Name. Sparky.”

The human pointed at himself. “And I am…?”

Sparky’s brow furrowed further. “Andrew?”

Andrew gave a nod. “Yes.”

The colt repeated the new words under his breath a couple more times, before letting out a groan. “Play. Play, Bushkeeper. Words are not fun.”

Andrew ruffled the colt’s mane one last time. “Later.”

Sparky made a face, but eventually tumbled off to go play with the other foals on the hill. Andrew shook his head as a cheap grin found its way onto his lips.

“Andrew! Bushkeeper!” Mint was rushing up the hill.

“Mint?”

Mint took pause and watched as Andrew approached her. “Where is your stick, Bushkeeper?”

“My leg’s all good now.” He pat his right calf for emphasis. “Had a bit of a soak, did the trick.”

Mint opened her mouth, then shut it. She did that one more time before shaking her head. “Follow,” she ordered in the stead of questioning Andrew. Turning, she strut down the hill and back towards the group of ponies conversing by the river.

Andrew’s approach caused the chattering ponies to stop. Each of the herd leaders gave a small bow to the teenager, and then waited for him to speak.

“Er, hello guys.”

“Again, I must repeat that this is the biggest problem!” Andrew and all of the herd leaders turned to Lemon. “We cannot understand it—him, but it is clear that he understands us. We must prioritize sharing our languages in order to prosper.”

“The Bushkeeper cannot speak our own language,” Mint added. “It is clear that he is unable to emulate our words, but we…" the unicorn mare waved a hoof over the three respective herd leaders, including herself, “we are able to speak his words.”

Brownie spoke next, a rare occurrence in Andrew’s memory. “So that’s it then? We learn how to speak the Bushkeeper’s language?” The mare shook her head. “You already have begun to teach our foals of his language—” Brownie’s eyes narrowed. “—and who knows what else.”

Mint took offense to that. “What are you implying?” she growled.

Andrew stepped in, palms raised forward. “Hey, let’s keep it calm, Brownie, Mint.”

“Yes, I agree with the Bushkeeper… with... Andrew.” Storm smiled at Andrew. He smiled back. “We must remain peaceful if we are to plan for our foals’ future.”

“Says the mare who threatened the willhorns with violence,” Lemon butt in sarcastically. Andrew delivered a hard slap to the stallion’s neck. The unicorn gave a yip and rubbed at the spot, glaring at Andrew all the while. “Don’t do that!”

“The adults are talking, Lemon.” Andrew knew the irony of his own statement, but pushed Lemon away from the meeting nonetheless. “Go sit in your… your grassy corner… and think about what you’ve done wrong.”

Lemon, of course, did not leave. Andrew joined back into the conversation, receiving an apologetic smile from Storm.

“I apologize for my previous words… the attack and the previous days have changed my mind about your willhorns.”

Greeny beamed in reply. “Glad to hear it!"

Brownie looked to Mint and sighed. “Yes, I apologize as well. This season has been particularly troublesome.”

All of those present took the sudden moment of silence to recall the burning Great Green.

“Writing.” The ponies looked to Andrew as he repeated again, “Writing.”

“That is one way to go about it,” Greeny agreed.

“Well, I want to build a shelter.” The ponies all listened carefully to Andrew as he spoke. “I know you guys—oh forget it. I want to build a small little perimeter. I don’t have much else to do if I can’t sheperd you guys around anymore. Oh, I know, I could teach you guys how to plant grains and such, or even gather up the apples from the grove to the north—”

“Andrew,” Mint sighed, “we still do not understand you, as you may already know.”

“Yes, I know.”

Orange snorted. “He is not a grown stallion, is he?”

The various mares and stallions around began whuffling at that.

“Dude! Why?!” Andrew blushed as the whuffs the ponies made began to sound more and more like human laughter. “You suck!”

“Actually, it is quite clear, now that I see it like that.” The other ponies gave sounds of agreement to Mint’s statement.

“Scratch that, all of you suck!”

Storm sighed with a tinge of mirth. “Enough teasing. We have plans to make.”

“The Bushkeeper has to lead us, we agree on this, yes?” All of the ponies nodded at that. Andrew went to butt in his own reply, but Storm continued speaking. “We should leave some ponies under his leadership while we prepare for the frost moon. The Great Lights have told me that we are mere nights away from the rise of the frost moon.” A murmuring arose from all of the ponies listening in.

Andrew froze at that. ‘We have that much time before winter? That’s not good.’

“What would the Bushkeeper do with our herd?” Brownie asked. Andrew saw her eyes flick between Storm and him suspiciously.

Storm gave some sort of shrug. “He may teach them, he may play with them, or he may pursue some other activity with them. It is hard to know his own thoughts.” Storm frowned at Andrew. “He stands here before us, and all he may do is listen.”

The Bushkeeper sighed, emphasizing the mare’s point with his reply. “Yes.”

Mint whinnied, “This sounds well. Shall we commit to scavenging for food and seeking shelter, then?”

“We may carve the earth for shelter,” Brownie nodded. “Your willhorns and winged ones will be able to find food, yes?”

Blackie, Mint, Greeny, and Storm all gave their agreement.

“Then it shall begin.” Bowing, Brownie spoke to each pony in turn, “Earth be with you.”

The parties separated, leaving Andrew alone amongst a sea of worriedly babbling ponies. He understood completely, of course. They had spent so much time moving from beyond the mountains and into the valley that they had completely forgotten about preparing for winter. It wasn’t like they could do much, Andrew realized; they were ponies, and definitely had no hibernation instincts in their blood. At least, that’s what he expected.

After wandering for a small amount of time without anyone to talk to, Andrew found a small amount of ponies herded around him. They all seemed as confused as he was, if their disoriented neighs were anything to go by.

Storm was at the edge of the crowd pressed up against Andrew. “This is your flock, Bushkeeper. Take care of them, and they will take care of you. Lead as you will.”

And that was that.

Andrew blinked and looked over the sea of ponies around him. “Uh, well. This was sudden and unexpected.”

Each of the ponies blinked up at him in kind.

“No, but seriously, why are you guys pressed up against me like this?” He lightly pushed on the closest pony, sending the herd shuffling a little. The ponies picked up on Andrew’s desire for them to move and gave him some much needed breathing room.

One of the ponies, the white pegasus mare that had helped carry Andrew to the Berry Forest, asked meekly, “What are we doing, Bushkeeper?

“You know what, that’s a great question my pegasus friend.” He stepped away from the crowd, though they did follow behind him. He stared down the stream and towards the icy peaks to the north. He remained quiet for a moment, before he turned and spoke up, his thoughts collected.

“Let’s get started with some simple stuff: making shelter for winter.”

The ponies stared blankly at Andrew. He sighed.

“Nevermind, I forgot again.” He waved his finger around in the air, then pointed in a random direction. “Let’s learn some Eng—” the ponies galloped off in the direction his finger was pointing “—lish.” Groaning, Andrew followed after the ponies. “Why do they always run off after the finger?”

Author's Note

Ponies just love to run in random directions, don't they?

42 - With Their Knowledge

With Their Knowledge

“Andrew!”

The man looked up from his shirt and needle. “Mint?” he called back.

“Come here!” the mare squealed. Her head popped into the view of the house’s doorway. “Come look at what Alabaster did!”

“Alright, calm down. I’ll be there in a moment.” Setting his work aside, Andrew peeled out of the house and into the sunny day outside. “Good morning to you too, Mint.”

“He said his first sentence, Andrew!”

“He did?”

“Yes! Come on!”

They quickly departed from the large tiled-hut and made their way across the village to the familiar green hill where the school stood; a small wooden hut for storage. Splayed across the ground, each of the foals’ clay tablets and chisels lay discarded. The foals had gathered around Greeny and Alabaster, and each one was chattering rapidly to the white unicorn. As Andrew and Mint approached, Alabaster sounded off.

“Can we play? Can we play? Can we play?” He bounced with each sentence.

It was clear and fluent English, something very few foals in the village could attest to.

And it was certainly worthy of some playtime.

“We can play,” the Keeper affirmed. “Just for a—” He was cut short by the tackling pile of foals.

Greeny laughed. “Do you need any help, Andrew?”

“I’m good,” he groaned out from beneath the foals. “Totally meant for this to happen.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Greeny, I didn’t ask for your—mpmh!”

“What was that Andrew? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Leave him alone, Greeny.”

The stallion rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes, Minty.”

“Alright alright, we can finish this later.” Delivering a final noogie to one of the scattering foals, Andrew rolled over with Alabaster in his arms and stood. “What else have you learned, Alabaster?”

Looking to Greeny, the foal muttered something in the pony language. Greeny responded with a nod and a tiny little wave of encouragement. “Hu… hungry?”

“Hungry. You had it!” Andrew paused. “Are you hungry, Alabaster?”

The foal wiggled his head excitedly.

“How about we eat some of Storm’s new bread?”

“Br… bre…” Groaning, the foal flopped over.

Mint smiled. “That ‘bread’ is really good, Andrew. Did you teach her how to make it?”

“She did it on her own. She’s a natural-born chef.”

“Chef?”

“Ah, like a cook.”

“Oh!”

Fiddling with Alabaster’s ears, Andrew grinned at the released giggles. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

“I’ll be here cleaning up,” Greeny piped up. “And I already ate, so don’t worry about me.”

“We weren’t!” Mint prodded Andrew hard with a hoof. “Ow! I mean… we totally were!”

Over the years, the ponies had carved themselves quite the village. For the buildings, each one was more experimental in design and material than the last, designs incredibly familiar yet alien to the human. There was one building, however, that stuck out the most; the home of Storm and her pegasi was by far one of the most unusual creations Andrew had ever encountered. Built of cloud, the floating fortress of a dormitory was the home of the many pegasi that lived in the village. Like most of the other houses, it too was supported by rectangular walls and a flat ceiling, but its cloudlike construction made it a curiosity that no other pony could experience; all but the pegasi were unable to enter the building.

The grey pegasus was set up as per usual in the large cooking area. Nearby, the bonfire sat stoked for the night’s festivities. Storm, even after relegating her position as the herd leader to Blackie, still retained a great deal of authority in the village; she was the true mediator between each in-town conflict. Supported by her soft-spoken mannerisms, her sage-like wisdom, and her position as the pony in charge of bringing you your next meal, her authority sometimes swept over even Andrew’s decisions.

Their approach went unnoticed by the village’s elder; she was far too busy tending to the brick oven. The man and his mare slipped by Storm and away with a loaf, made their way over to a patch of grass shared by other ponies, and sat down to eat.

After a few minutes of idle chit-chat, Andrew decided it was the time. “Mint?”

She swallowed her piece of bread. “Yes?”

“I’ve thought about working on the school more.”

“Ah.” She nodded her head. “I was going to ask you about that.”

“You were?”

“Yes, of course! You always talk about how much you want the foals to learn. When we first built that little building, you said that ‘The youngest minds will be the brightest.’ We have so many foals now, and so little space for their tools.” Mint was trying her hardest to hold back. “So what were you thinking? We make the school bigger?”

He was blunt. “I want paper.”

“Paper?” The unicorn tasted the word.

“For writing. We already use the clay tablets for writing, but you already know how difficult those are for the foals to write with; they can’t work very easily with their chisels. There is one thing that the stones do that paper would do as well, and that’s preserve our work.”

“Our work? But aren’t they the ones working?”

“Mint, we’ve been teaching them to write for a reason. You’ve seen what Sparky’s done with his tablets in that shed, haven’t you?”

“His stories are wonderful, Andrew.”

He clasped his hands together. “Yes! That’s exactly it!”

“Stories?”

“Yes! But I want to do more than create stories, I want to record our stories.”

This caused Mint to severely cock her head. “What do you mean by that?”

“History, Mint. History is here and how, then and there. I want us to write down things about the place we live, what we did to get here, how we do things now. I want to write everything, Mint.” His eyes fluttered to the foals captivated by Storm’s work. “For them.”

The two sat there for a long-time against one another, watching their thriving world with prideful eyes.

“Mint… I think I’ve said this before but… you’re the best pony a kid like me could’ve asked for.”

“You are no foal, Andrew.”

He peered down with a cocked eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Pressing her head against his chin, Mint tittered. “You are a grown stallion, now. You have done so much for us these past moons. You have more than proven to us that you are not the foal you came here as. You are our… family.”

“Mint… I…”

“You do not need to prove yourself anymore, Andrew. I… We cannot thank you enough for what you have given us.”

Silence gripped him for several minutes.

“Mint?”

“Yes?”

“I won’t stop until I see this village covering the entire Greenland.”

“I will be here.”

“I know.”

“We all will.”

The Keeper Kept

“Wow,” Andrew muttered, awestruck.

“It’s beautiful out here!” Mint agreed with a wholehearted whinny.

Greeny promptly faceplanted into a thick patch of white.

It was snowing.

The gentle flakes drifted slowly through the air, scattering the landscape in a thin layer of white. To the west, the sun shimmered across the ocean with vibrant orange and yellow, its light blending easily with the blue sky above. From their den, the herds of the three tribes emerged to meet the winter's final gift.

Andrew was happy to see such a beautiful sight. It warmed his heart well and true. The snow christened this as their new home, his new home.

As he peered down at Mint, he felt a powerful emotion well-up within him. He loved this mare, and she loved him. They were inseparable, and no matter the circumstances that had nearly divided them, it was just a fact of life that they would never be apart. For the first time in a long while, he recognized the fact that he had been gifted the opportunity to emerge from that forest and into a herd of unicorns. Together, the ponies had grown as a community, and now Andrew felt himself sure of the fact that he had brought this to reality. Feeling himself in the moment, he wrapped his arms around Mint and lifted her into the air. The azure unicorn’s fear quickly gave way to happiness, and as the human danced around the snowy playground, the ponies throughout the village began to join in. Glowing in cheer, Andrew placed his neck against Mint’s and slowed to a stop.

As his first year among ponies drew to a close, he was glad there would be dozens more winters to witness.