She sat at attention, hands gently cupped around the tea Gloriosa had generously made her. Her brother would be back soon, she promised, he was just repairing a bridge on one of the trails.
She hummed in thought as she took another relaxing sip. Perhaps she would be able to do some bridge repair of her own when they met.
The door creaked open as Timber returned, toolbelt still around his waist. "Hey Miss Majesty," he greeted her. "Just give me a few to clean up, I'll be right with you."
"Take your time, Mr. Spruce," she smiled back. "And, please, call me Celestia. You and your family have earned that much, at least."
"And you," he replied as he returned, still wearing his toolbelt but not whatever stains using it had incurred. "have definitely earned the right to be called Miss Majesty. If it weren't for you and your students, I don't know that me and Gloriosa would've been able to hold onto here."
"That was more Sunset and her friends' doing than mine," she softly smiled, though that quickly became a frown. "If I'd paid attention to just how dire you and your sister's straits were, I would've done the same."
"So you didn't notice that someone you see twice a year was in trouble," Timber shrugged. "Big whoop. Newsflash, Miss Majesty, you're human, just like the rest of us. You're allowed to make mistakes."
"I know, Timber," she murmured. "I just wish I stopped making them with such close friends."
"Actually," he rubbed the back of his head. "that's something that's always confused me. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you like this place, but...why? What did Camp Everfree and its keepers do to catch the eye of someone like you?"
Celestia hesitated. Then lifting her cup, she replied, "Your father saved my life, once."
"What?" quietly left his lips while she took a calculated sip to allow her time to think. "Dad saved your life? How? When?"
"It was during my first trip here," she replied as she returned her cup to the table. "We were on a hike, at least most of us were. Poor Luna was too young, and she'd caught a bit of a chill the previous night. She begged for me not to go, said she'd had a dream warning of danger if I went. I paid it no heed, and followed your mother into the woods. Eventually, she had us pair off and go explore on our own, and I and a friend wandered off. We made our way away from the others, always making sure that we knew the way back of course, and eventually found ourselves faced with a ford where the river was stronger. Not wanting to risk crossing, we prepared to turn back."
She took another sip. "That was when the wolf jumped out, just as my sister dreamt it had. I knew there was no way we could outrun it, and certainly no way we could outfight it, so I tried to make what I thought the best decision; distract the wolf while my friend, Chiffon I believe her name was, ran back to camp. She tried to protest, but when the wolf howled, her legs protested her protests and sped her away of their own accord. The wolf prepared to follow her, but I, with little more than delusional heroism and a big stick, struck it to get its attention.
"We danced for a while, me occasionally getting a blow in with my stick until it managed to bite it away from me, but eventually I tripped and fell, and prepared for the end. That was when your father swooped in, snatching me out of its jaws with seconds to spare.
"He picked me up and, to my surprise, began running towards the river. I screamed, preparing for the plunge as he jumped in, but found myself stunned again as he continued running as if he were on dry land. We reached the other side quickly, and then he put me on the ground before turning to look back at the wolf. It attempted to follow us, but ended up taking the plunge I had feared, diving into belly-deep water before being swept away by the river.
"Coming out of my shock, I prepared to thank him, but was distracted by voices on the other shore. Turning, I saw that Chiffon had managed to find the others and bring them to help, and I will never forget the look of savage fury on your mother's face as she stomped into view. It faded once she saw that I was safe and the wolf was gone, and she called for me to stay put until she could come get me. Calling back in agreement, I turned to thank my savior, but found him gone, vanished back into the thicket from which he came. It was only later that I learned who I was saved by, your father, and how he'd done it, using a set of hidden steppingstones.
"We returned back to the main camp, and Luna refused to let me out of her sight for the rest of the trip, not wanting to risk losing her sister again. I acquiesced, mainly out of fear; the wolf had shaken me, and it took me months to stop having nightmares about it. But I did not sour on Camp Everfree, and especially not on its wardens; indeed, the event only gave me newfound respect for them, and gratitude. Along," she steepled her fingers. "with suspicion. I went back to the ford a few years ago, Timber, after poor Luna's incident, in an attempt to show her how her sister would never leave her, not even at the prodding of a wolf. There was one problem, though; no matter where I looked, I couldn't find the steppingstones your father had used. The stream bed was sandy, deep, and almost completely bare. The steppingstones that had saved my life had vanished with the man who'd saved it."
"You know the perils of trusting a child's memory, Celestia," Timber replied. "Are you sure you were looking in the right place?"
"Yes," she answered. "I remember-vividly-where I was when the wolf attacked. They were the same place, only one had steppingstones and the other didn't."
Timber shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. Maybe they moved or were eroded away?"
Celestia simply raised an eyebrow.
Timber looked back at her blankly.
"Unsatisfactory as that explanation is," she eventually sighed, reaching into her purse. "I might've accepted it once. After all, what other explanation is there? A miracle? Random chance? No, unlikely as it is, movement or erosion would've been the most likely answer for me once." She took out a brown book, ornately decorated with green and gold, and laid it on the table. "Once," she repeated as she tapped the book's cover. "before your girlfriend began looking into your family history."
"Chiefs of Branch and Brook?" Timber snorted at the tome. "That's just a bunch of fairytales and children's stories."
"Perhaps," she admitted, opening the book. "Or perhaps those who said that 'Heirloom whispered a word of command and the river became a bridge' have a more satisfactory answer as to how your father was able to cross the river."
"And, what?" he snorted again. "We also have secret tree-houses where there's never ending beer and butter?"
"I do not believe that everything written in here is true, no," Celestia replied, closing the book again. "However, I do think that there are kernels of truth within it...just as there are kernels of truth in the stories told of my family. I have not come here to try to pry secrets from you, Mr. Spruce; I have come to ask you for help, and, more importantly," she got down on one knee. "your friendship."
He looked impassively back at her.
"You saw what happened with Gloriosa and Sunset and her friends," she continued. "Events like that are only going to become more frequent, if Sunset's guesses are correct. And, seeing as Luna's dreams agree with them, my guess is they are. Sunset thinks she brought magic here, Timber, and she did, to a degree. She brought magic here..."
"...but she brought it back," he begrudgingly admitted. "Or reinforced it, in my family's case. Yes, dad probably did use magic to rescue you from the wolf, happy? Or are you going to try to drag how he did it out of me, too?"
"What I want," Celestia replied, returning to her seat. "is your help. Luna's dreams have changed recently, several times mingling with those of other people. As for myself," her voice faltered. "I see things in my dreams, things that might come to pass. I...I would appreciate the help of another person from a...magically gifted bloodline in managing my...condition."
"Why don't you ask Sunset for help?"
Celestia hesitated, then replied, "I...see her sometimes, when I have one of those dreams. Some of the things I see..." She shivered. "...I would prefer her not to know about."
"So you're trying to keep secrets," Timber raised a brow. "from a mindreader?"
"Better a chance of her learning than guaranteeing that she does," Celestia frowned.
Timber shrugged. "Your funeral when she finds out you're keeping secrets, and it sounds like big ones, from her," he replied. "Anything else, or do you just need me to play therapist?"
Celestia's frown deepened. "Why so hostile, Mr. Spruce?"
"You're digging up things that prefer to stay buried," he answered. "What Sparks' little book," he tapped the offending tome. "doesn't say is that Everfree magic wasn't just discovered by some random person; if the legends are true, it was given to us by Gaea Everfree herself."
"I thought you said she was just a myth," Celestia protested. "a story to tell around the campfire."
"She might be," he shrugged. "Just like my family's magic was. Even if she isn't real, what is is that our magic doesn't come free; contractual, that was what mom always called it. You do what Everfree wants, she does something you want, and if you break the rules she breaks your bones. And rule number one? The Everfree stays wild. We can put trails through it, maybe a few small buildings, but we don't turn the Everfree into another city, or a lab. Now, I love Sparks, but what do you think she'd do if she learned about my magic?"
Celestia swallowed. "'The Everfree protects itself,'" she murmured. "More wisdom gleaned from Twilight's research."
"You're poking a bear to ask it a question," Timber nodded. "I'm trying to scare you away so you don't get eaten."
"Then I must ask you to pass a message along to that bear when it wakes up," Celestia sighed. "Magic is returning to the world, a world almost unprepared for it. If we don't want something to happen to that world, something I believe even the Everfree would find objectionable, then we need to make ready."
"By doing what?"
"Those few places that know what to expect from magic's return are islands in a sea," Celestia replied, planting her hands firmly on the table. "If we want to survive, we need them to unite. I'm trying to assemble those islands, whoever and wherever they are. Timber, will you help me do so? Will Everfree stand with the rest of the world?"
He stared back at her, unreadable, for several moments, before eventually, thankfully, nodding. "Everfree's the black sheep of the world," he replied. "Doesn't mean it wants something bad to happen to the rest of the flock."
"Thank you," she sighed gratefully.
"Don't thank me yet," he warned. "I have my own reasons for joining you, and not all of them are selfless. I may not dream like you or your sister, Miss Majesty, but that doesn't mean I'm going into the future blind; Everfree warns her flock, and lately everything, moss, branch, stream, flower, has been telling me the same thing: something's coming, something big, bigger than what happened to Gloriosa."
"Do you have any idea what it is?" she asked.
"A storm," he replied simply. "A big storm's coming, and not even Everfree will be able to stand against it alone."
