“But we are friends, are we not?” said the duchess breathlessly, with her emerald eyes fixed—“
Autumn Blaze huffed a sigh. She levitated up the sheet of paper and crumpled it, lobbing it over her shoulder to join a dozen others. Her quill was stabbed back into the ink pot and she slouched back in her chair, rubbing at her forehead.
Her creativity had been drifting even more than usual lately, across different ideas that appeared out of nowhere. A play about two star-crossed lovers from feuding families. Another play about a father trying to set up his daughter on a deserted island. And then there was this longer story, about a Kirin who seeks revenge on three former friends and a former fiancé.
In short: crazy stuff. At least, crazier than usual.
Autumn got up from her chair and flopped onto her bed, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Patches of luminescent paint (Branch Glimmer’s specialty) dotted the darker space with specks of blue, some shaped like stars and others just dots.
She took a deep breath in to calm her nerves before letting it out. Wherever her creativity led her, it always included some detail she couldn’t quite place: green eyes, blonde hair, country accents, a wide-brimmed hat. It all seemed vaguely familiar, and yet she couldn’t put her hoof on them.
And what was the deal with all the romance stuff anyway? These larger projects aside, she’d been coming up with enough sappy poems about love that she’d be able to use them for syrup on her flapjacks and honey in her tea.
Autumn sat up abruptly, grinning. “That’s just what I need: tea!” she said to herself, quickly rolling to her hooves and trotting to her kitchen.
Just as she was about to levitate over the tea container, she stopped. She glanced back into her bedroom-slash-think-room-slash-workspace and noted the empty cup on her desk. She’d already tried the tea angle, and all it had done was quench her thirst.
Her eyes then slid over to the cardboard box in the corner, eyes lighting up briefly. Then she remembered how many dang seating positions she’d tried – to no avail. Her trusty thinking box was out as well.
“Right. Guess I’ll do what I did to fix the whole Vow of Silence thing: this Kirin’s going for a walk,” she remarked. As she trotted into the entryway and slipped on her saddlebags, she looked over her shoulder at a watermelon with a smiling face scribbled on it.
“Hold down the fort, will ya, Marv? I got tea leaves to pick,” she said, before exiting out the front door.
As she trotted through the village, she briefly waved to every Kirin she passed. Normally she’d stop and chat their ears off, but it was mid-afternoon already and she wanted to be home before sunset.
“Hey, Autumn Blaze!” Fern Flare called. “Where are you headed?”
“Going to look for some tea leaves. I need to clear my head, and restock my pantry too, I guess,” Autumn called back as Fern Flare joined her.
“I actually haven’t seen that many tea leaves around the village.” Fern rubbed her chin. “I guess that was because of the ‘Zen Tea Social’ a few days ago.”
“Oh right, the social… That was a good social though,” Autumn pointed out, to which Fern nodded. “Darn, guess I’ll have to go deeper into the forest.”
“Be careful out there, you know the old tales – spooooky stuff happens in the deep forest.” Fern Flare waved her forelegs for effect, making Autumn giggle.
“I’ll be careful,” Autumn replied. “Take care!”
“You take care too!” Fern called, waving to her friend as she trotted off into the forest.
The Peaks of Peril were an interesting place to explore. It held all the craggy climbs and jutting rock of a mountain draped in a blanket of moss and ferns. Trees grew lush and rampant alongside insurmountable cliffs. Rivers cut through stone and formed pools in clearings.
However, the deeper into the forest you got, the more even the terrain. Soon the canopy began to blot out sunlight, and the heavy scents of tropical flowers and fresh rot filled the air.
And in spite of all those trees and all those bushes, Autumn Blaze still couldn’t find any dang tea leaves!
“Seriously?” she remarked, checking another bush, only to find it loaded with blueberries instead of tea leaves. She popped a few into her mouth before carrying on. “Ish there any tea leavesh in thish neck of the woods?”
She swallowed as she trotted along, the trail growing darker and darker. Mushrooms grew around the bases of trees and fallen logs, some glowing softly in the dim light. Moss grew rampant here, even over the trail she was using. The roar of a waterfall could be heard coming up.
“How deep did I go?” Autumn questioned, slowing down. As she looked around, she noticed something close to the ground and lit up like a Hearth’s Warming Tree.
“Herbs!” she exclaimed. “And some lavender, and chamomile too! Just ripe and everything.”
She quickly got to work picking the leaves and flowers, stuffing them into her saddlebags. All the while, she didn’t notice she was being watched...
As she stood back upright, something caught her peripheral vision’s attention. Autumn looked up to see a strange sight: small vials full of glowing blue dots. Or were they specks? Spores? Whatever they were, the vials they were in dangled from low-hanging tree branches by glowing silk.
In the light coming through the lush canopy, she noticed details on the trees themselves: tiny windows, doors, spiraling staircases. As if something the size of a bug had made its home in the forest trees.
Another glimmer caught her attention, but this one was moving – it had vanished by the time Autumn had caught up with it. It seemed to head further into the forest, so Autumn cautiously followed it.
She marveled at the miniscule architecture and hanging lights as she went, unsure of what to make of them. Old Kirin tales had spoken of forest spirits, but that had seemed so farfetched. She had remembered blue flashes in the forest during her isolation, but chalked it up to either her mentality or dreams.
Her hooves made wooden thunks, and she looked down to see herself on a mossy log, curved over a narrow gap in the rocky terrain like a bridge. It was a deep chasm, around twenty feet down. Its bottom glistened, fed by a waterfall off to her right – a small river canyon in the peaks.
Autumn’s attention, however, turned skyward, and her eyes widened. Darting among the tree branches and along the ground around her were tiny, blue figures. They were wispy in texture, but when she concentrated hard enough, they seemed to resemble ponies. Some stopped to watch her, while others continued to frolic.
“Oh… wow…” Autumn breathed, eyes sparkling. Her mouth, agape in awe, curled into a grin. “Fae. Actual, real, fae!”
Her exclamation seemed to scare them, and most of the spirits retreated behind branches and rocks. She winced. “Sorry, sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
The fae peaked out again, this time a lot more calmly. They mostly sat and watched her as she looked among them. The tales had said fae were tricksters, that they only appeared to Kirin for a prank… or a reason.
“So… not that I’m complaining, but… why are you guys here?” Autumn was tempted to seat herself, to get more comfortable for a chat, but she quickly remembered where she was. “You… don’t seem to be pranking me.”
A few fae moved over a stick, tying it around another branch with glowing silk. Another fae grabbed ahold of something and drifted down from the stick like a line on the end of a fishing pole.
The other end of the silk was tied to a brilliant pink flower, with most of its stem still intact. The fae lowered it down to Autumn as if to offer it.
She blinked in surprise – in all her life in the Peaks, Autumn had never noticed a flower like this one before. As she levitated it off the silky strand and over to her, she took a whiff. It was all the sweetness of a rose with the sharp kick of spice.
“You want me to have this?” Autumn asked, looking around at the fae gathered – a few of them, including the one still on the silk, nodded. “Well, thank you.”
The second the flower was placed into her saddlebags, the wispy fae seemingly snuffed out. Their glowing vials faded with them, as well as the tiny architecture worked into the wood of the trees. The entire scene grew dimmer.
Autumn Blaze was once again alone in the forest.
As she squinted skyward, she was surprised to see wine-colored sky peeking through the canopy. She was sure she hadn’t been wandering through the forest for that long. Maybe the fae really were pranking her.
Carefully lighting her horn with Nirik fire, Autumn Blaze trotted back the way she came at a steady pace. She kept sneaking glances over her shoulders, but saw no more glowing wisps. She frowned as she thought.
“So,” she reasoned as she trotted. “The fae gave me this flower… is it some kind of prank or can I turn it into tea?” She glanced back at it in her saddlebag. “It doesn’t look dangerous, but… maybe I should consult an expert back in the village. Just to be safe.”
As she left their forest, the fae watched on expectantly.
“Sorry for coming at such a late hour, Leaf Flame,” Autumn said as she stepped into the Kirin’s house. “I just found something in the forest and I thought I’d run it by you. To see if it’s brewable.”
Autumn Blaze, of all Kirin, was not one to discredit anyone. However, the thought of forest spirits just handing over a strange flower she’d never seen before seemed like a stretch of a story, however truthful it might be.
“No problem at all, Autumn Blaze, I’d be happy to help,” Leaf Flame said, slipping on a pair of reading glasses. “What did you find?”
Reluctantly, Autumn floated the pink flower over to the Kirin, who caught it in her own aura. She turned it this way and that, and risked sniffing it once, before rubbing her chin in thought.
“Well, I know what it is – this here is a heart’s fire flower,” Leaf concluded. “And you can make tea out of it.”
“Why does that sound like one of things where someone says ‘you can totally do something’ but really they’re saying ‘you really, really shouldn’t?’” Autumn asked, her ears drooping.
“It’s nothing bad, it’s medicinal, that’s all. Like foal’s-breath,” Leaf said, floating the flower back into Autumn’s saddlebag.
“So… what’s it cure?” Autumn glanced back at the flower, now even more unsure of why the fae had given it to her.
“Heart’s fire is supposed to be able to clear your thoughts. It helps you set your heart on what you truly want, in spite of what filters your head is telling you.” Leaf Flame levitated her glasses back to their spot on a table. “Kirin have been using it for decades to help get their creativity flowing.”
“Then how come I haven’t seen one of these before? I was stuck in the forest for quite a bit, and I’d remember seeing one of these… probably.” Autumn frowned.
“Well, that’d be the ‘Kirin Festivals of Creativity’ before the Vow of Silence happened – little fairs dedicated to Kirin and their artistic talents. We went through quite a lot of heart’s fire, so much so that it only grows deep in the forest.”
Leaf Fire frowned as she narrowed her eyes at Autumn. “How deep into the forest did you go anyway?”
Autumn gulped, then grinned sheepishly. “Well, ya know, I just went for a stroll to clear my thoughts. Guess I just lost track of time.” She shrugged. “Anyway, thanks for your help, Leaf Flame.”
As she opened the door, Leaf Flame nodded. “If you find any more of that heart’s fire, could you bring me some? I think it’d look nice growing next to the foal’s-breath in my flowerbed.”
“Will do!” Autumn called, slamming the door shut behind her and racing home.
“So.” Autumn Blaze lowered her gaze down until her eyes peered over the edge of her dining table, so she could come muzzle-to-muzzle with what she was staring down.
Or, wait, did tea cups have muzzles?
She shook her head. The cup seemed ordinary, save for the bagged heart’s fire seated within the warm water. Autumn lifted her head, watching the pinkish-brown contents leak out and stain the water.
“Set my heart straight, huh? Well, tough guy – let’s see what ya got.”
Autumn levitated up the cup to her lips, and the second the water touched them, she recoiled back. “Ok! Too hot, too hot! Ow!” she exclaimed, setting the cup back down.
Still, she could faintly taste it on her charred lips. There was that rose again, with a hint of spice… cinnamon? Nutmeg? Clove perhaps? Grumbling, she set the cup back down and flopped her chin onto the table.
“Ok, if that’s how ya want to play it, I’ll wait you out,” she said, narrowing her eyes at the cup. In her head, the cup defied her.
After a minute of waiting, Autumn caved and started blowing across the tea’s surface. Mixed with some tactical stirring from a teaspoon, she was finally able to cool the brew down enough for her first, tentative sip.
She seemed to have underestimated the tea’s temperature – a molten drop coursed down to her stomach, feeling hot even in a fire-resistant body. It pooled there until she took another sip, and then another.
The warmth diffused into her body with each additional sip, as if it had seeped into her veins. It coiled around her heart and up to her brain. Her creative thoughts shied away, allowing her head to clear.
As the last of the tea was finished, a sleepy feeling overcame Autumn. Her limbs felt heavy, so she dragged herself over to her bed. Flopping onto her back for the second time that day, the blue dots above her seemed to morph into tricky fae.
As sleep began to overtake her, a blissful smile crossed her muzzle. It wasn’t one she’d had since the Kirin were freed from their vow. Not since she finally had someone to talk to in the quiet wilderness of the Peaks.
Her eyes slid shut, thoughts playing about an orange coat, blonde mane, eyes like peridots, all wrapped up in a Stetson hat and the scent of earth and apples. At the thought, she curled up on the bed.
“Ah. Right. That makes so much more sense,” she muttered as she drifted off to sleep.
Author's Note
Date of Creation (D.o.C.): 7/3/20
Yakovlev-vad has a lot of amazing artwork, and quite a few pieces inspired me with story ideas. This here is the first in a short series of art-inspired pieces revolving around nature, the fae, and the ponies immersed in them. More to come soon.
Also, expect more tie-ins between the fae and the Kirin, because there is in fact a connection. Let me know if you get the literary references - plus the little bit of Onward I put in there.
The song I listened to while writing this was "Forest of Hope" from the game Pikmin.
-yours truly,
The Legendary Bill Cipher, Equestria Enthusiast
