Verve

Pumpkin Spice was one of the first to stir awake in the darkness of the tent, bound tightly in Tempest’s hooves. She wiggled her body out from the firm grasp of the mare, squeaking as a swift tug of the makeshift leather leash sent her right back into the Unicorn’s iron grasp. Snuggled in close, the soft fluff of the wine-colored pony’s chest embraced her fully.

“Mm… not yet, Pet. It’s much too early to pack up,” she mumbled; it was somewhat ‘night time’ for them, after all. They’ve only been asleep for four hours, give or take. But something managed to rouse her from her sleep.

“I-I was going to forage for food, Mistress,” Pumpkin mewled quietly in response, Tempest’s horn gleaming with sparkling, electrifying light to illuminate the dark interior of the tent.

“No. You’re not allowed to trek alone. Especially you, I don’t want you of all ponies hurt or killed from another careless mistake.”

“I-I’ll stay close, I promise,” she whispered. Tempest wrapped the slack of Pumpkin’s leash tight, pulling her small body tight under the protection of her legs.

“No. That’s an order, Pet. We can survive another day or two on what we have. Now sleep. We might be lucky, and able to raid the Seraph’s rations, as well - though unlikely, if they have been stationed out here with a full crew.”

Blushing, but willing to follow orders - she eventually submitted to her fate. Well, she would have - if the sound of voices didn’t carry from outside.

Tempest’s ears perked, swiveling to the source. Alert to danger, and curious to who would be awake at these hours - her firm grip relented.

“It appears we’re not alone. Here,” A soft hoof tugged at the knot of her bind, freeing the little mare. “Let’s investigate. If the others are having trouble sleeping, we’ll scavenge the immediate area for anything suitable. Alright? Both of us.”

The little mare snapped to attention, nodding. “Y-Yes Mistress.” Her reward? A soft ruffle of her mane, and a gentle peck on the lips.

“Good girl.”

The campfire was nearly embers as they stepped into the clearing, Vee staring idly into the coals as the darkness loomed. Tempest tossed a log into the pit, cracks of flame spiraled and flashed into the cool, dark air.

“Vee? Are you alright?” Pumpkin asked, gently bumping her hoof against her Sister’s side. The pegasus jumped and neighed, her usual half-drawn exhausted eyes shooting open.

“Small-fry! You know better than to interrupt my wall staring! My feathers didn’t even feel you coming! I need a solid eight hours of staring to be happy and healthy in the mornings, and you know it, Smols! How did - you’re blending in to the dark too much, Small-fry.” She puffed, flapping a wing out to preen. “Hmhm. I’m guessing you heard the neighing in the woods, though. Hypnotising! And probably excessively dangerous.”

“So Arin and Celestia are still asleep?” Tempest questioned, careful senses and perceptive eyes sliding through the darkness of the woods. And after their encounter with the spiders - she turned her gaze up, too, just to be sure nothing was waiting above them. It’s always good to learn from past mistakes.

“We were still asleep. Could you all keep it down?” The pink maned alicorn burst her head from her shared tent, huffing in frustration. “You’ve been talking for hours!”

“No, we haven’t,” Tempest corrected; whatever voices that were filtering through the clearing had stopped. Now, it was just the crackling fire and the sound of creaking, creepy trees. Armorless, she stepped up to a nearby towering root - gazing over the darkness surrounding them. Yet her ears could pick up nothing through the disorienting shadows, save the reflective silence.

“We should pack up and move out. Celestia, if Arin isn’t up - wake him. Vee, keep the fire bright. All of you, start preparations and get ready to travel,” the Unicorn commanded, turning back to the group with a flick of her tail. Immediately, her danger sense went wild - something was right behind her. She wheeled on her hooves, horn flashing a bolt of cackling lightning into the dark.

...Nothing. There was nothing there. Her heart hammered in her chest, Pumpkin immediately joining her side to look into the dark with her.

“Are you alright, Tempest? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” she mewled, taking her Lover in. The Unicorn’s eyes were wide and her cheeks were pale, legs shaking from the terror. Without a second thought, the Unicorn grabbed Pumpkin by the scruff and clattered her hooves off the root.

“Huh-?! What! Hey! Stop doing that! I’m a full grown mare, thank you!” she whined, before being roughly deposited to the floor by the light of the fire. Tempest had trouble steadying her beating heart, wondering what exactly she felt lurking in the darkness.

“There’s something in the shadows. I didn’t see it, but… I could feel it. We are definitely not alone.”

Celestia, having stirred the Seraph from his sleep - appeared in the clearing with the yawning Knight by her side. His head hung low, tired eyes cracked to witness the sparkling heat of the flame. He carried Sun Song by his waist, unaware of the commotion brewing. Celestia, on the other hoof - heard her, and frowned.

“I won’t argue with you, Tempest; if you say move, we move. You’ve proven yourself as a natural leader, and I would be daft to argue that. Especially after Driderhold.”

The imposing mare relaxed at Celestia’s kind words, helping ease the budding tension as Arin groaned.

“Oh come on, Tia. Can’t you argue with her l so I can get back to bed? It’s way too-” Arin went to complain, but Celestia’s faint pink magic tugged his ear with a smirk. “Ow! Ow, okay, okay, don’t rip it off. I get it, I get it! I was kidding!”

“Let’s pack up, Arin. Hope you’re ready for another dozen leagues of galloping!” the Princess chirped, dragging the Seraph back to the tent with a massive wing. “After all, you have plenty of energy to run your mouth, why not give your legs a chance?”

Had they been running through an autumn forest, the leaves would have shaken clean off the trees by now. Arin was seriously regretting his lack of focus on ground travel back in Erenorn. Unlike Pegasi, who could idly float in place with their magic and wings - Seraph pinions were poorly equipped for slow pace travel. This is when a mount would be useful, back in his homeworld of Erenorn. Even with his naturally fast recovery, exhaustion still had to be slept away - and cutting through naps, or skipping out on it - had always been bad for Seraph health.

“This may sound weird, but… do you think we could move faster? So I can take some of the wear and tear off my legs?”

“Faster? You’ll kill me, Tall-fry! A solid flap isn’t good enough for you? Hmhm. Next you’ll tell me to join the Wonderbolts. I’m still banned from four different stadiums, so I don’t even qualify!” Vee huffed, struggling to keep her pace as it was.

“You’re um… also banned from a Neigh-Mart, two Clopcos, and the old Library in Ponyville,” the little witch said, hovering above on her broom.

“The librarian was wrong, feathers are a socially acceptable form of bookmark, Small-fry.”

“You left over a thousand feathers in two hundred books. You didn’t even rent the books, you just stuffed feathers in them and put them back on the shelf.” Pumpkin pointed an accusatory hoof at her now former Mentor; she was a full-fledged witch now, after all. Vee promoted her before Driderhold, and it was a title she meant to keep.

“I was marking the pages I wanted to read! Which was all of them. One of the employees even helped me do it. How was I wrong?” Vee raised her snout into the air, obviously she was, and always has been, morally correct.

“You know, Vee, I did receive a hopeful letter that Anonymous, Ponyville’s resident terrorist, had finally made a friend. And then Twilight banned said friend from the library. I’m assuming that was you?” Celestia breathed, Arin struggling to hold back laughter.

“Is this Twilight a Snooty-snooter like you, Sun-fry? If so, yes.” Vee huffed, sipping deep from her piping hot cuppa. “Ah yes. It tastes like burnt tongue.”

“How’d you get banned from a Neigh-Mart?” Arin couldn’t stop himself from asking, and Pumpkin sighed - committing herself to answering the questions that would inevitably come.

“Vee sampled the manager’s um… coffee, mid conversation. As in, she literally stole his mug, and drank it - before spitting it on the floor.”

“If he didn’t want me to taste it, he shouldn’t have complained about my feathers in the produce and held it in his grubby little hoof. And it was terrible coffee, really - I was doing him a favor.” Regardless, the purple mare smiled at the fond memory.

“When Vee started shopping at Clopco, she took the little… watering wand, from the produce section, a-and gave herself a shower. You know, the nozzle they use to spray on the vegetables so they won't wilt?”

“Okay, that one was definitely not the best decision. But they didn’t stop me the first two times! How would I know the third time was the final feather?”

“I think it was when y-you um… left it running, and flooded the whole vegetable aisle.” Pumpkin gave a nervous smile, clicking her hooves over her broom.

“Vegetables float, so really, I did them a service. I still send them an invoice every so often for my gardening services, but all I’ve received is a cease and desist letter from their attorney. So I’ve been sending them to him instead. They still owe me ten bits for my genius work.”

By now, the group had stopped so Arin - and now the giggly Princess - could heave with laughter. It was too much. Even Tempest was mildly amused, coming to a steady halt in the light of the lanterns.

“And then, for the Clopco in Vanhoover, Vee was banned on sight for carrying a sign into the store that said ‘Buck Clopco for Banning Me in Canterlot’.”

“And that was wrong? It was a protest! I was protesting my unfair treatment at the greedy bit-snooting Clopco overlords' expense.”

And suddenly, the dark forest just didn’t seem that scary anymore. Even with the giant bugs, the glowing mushrooms, and the weird whispers - Vee saved the day just by being her normal enigma of a pony. It reminded him of his time working for her… well, not with her - with Pumpkin. But Vee was there, and it counts.

After catching their breath, the grueling march picked up once more for another league or so before Tempest called for a proper break and campfire. Their supplies were down to their last loaf of bread and wedge of cheese, with some raisins to share for a snack. By now, even the creaks of the trees had stopped - the eerie quiet of the Deepwoods nearly suffocating as Tempest sought to assemble camp.

“Stay in pairs or by our camp’s light, once it’s assembled of course. Do not stray more than fifty hooves from the fire, especially alone. Celestia, Arin, work on starting the blaze - Pumpkin, you’re with me. We’re going to scavenge for food close at hoof. Vee, you’ll stay here and respond to any calls. That’s if we lose track of each other. If things grow dire and we lose the group - fly for the light under the canopy, regardless of the danger of being spotted. I will not tolerate any missing or dead, do you understand? If there’s danger, fly up into the light, not forward deeper into the darkness.”

The party set to work following these orders - Tempest keeping a keen ear to the clearing they found, forcing Pumpkin close at hoof for signs of danger.

“Aha! L-Look! The chicken of the woods, sulphur shelf.” Pumpkin smiled, pointing to an orange cluster of shrooms at the base of a towering tree. “A-And it doesn’t have gills beneath, see? It’s a young cluster, too - perfect for frying.”

The little witch dug around in her hat, humming quietly as she hunted for her foraging knife. Where did she put it?... Aha! There it was, covered in ichor, strangely enough. It must have fallen out of her hat when she was paralyzed - it wasn’t the most secure place, after all. The blade probably fell in the goo then.

Regardless, she withdrew her canteen from her pack, along with a spare cloth - giving it a good wipe down and scrub. Maybe a splash of sanitizer, too, just to be safe.

Cutting through the fresh shrooms with her hoof, the yellow-orange fungi were quickly added to her belongings. “You’re going to love these, Mistress. They’re really good, especially with ketchup - I think Arin has a bottle in his… Mistress?”

Pumpkin’s ears swivelled, eyes turning to look for her lover. “Tempest? Where are you? Vee! Did Tempest head back to camp?”

No response. Worry creeped up her spine, placing her back to the tree as her eyes darted through the clearing. It was black as pitch past the light of her lantern - nothing save the barren ground and massive roots.

“T-Tempest? Please, t-this isn’t funny!” Her voice began to waver, panic setting in. She wanted to hop on her broom and fly up - but that would abandon her Love entirely to the dark, alone, if she did.

“D-Darn it T-Tempest! W-Why c-couldn’t y-you give me orders f-for this!” She jittered on her hooves, bouncing in place. Her stutter returned in full force as the situation fell out of her control.

How could she be there one second, and gone the next? It made no sense! She didn’t have a horn to teleport with, nothing grabbed her - she would have heard the clink of her heavy Winter Iron Armor if she fled, too. How…

Quietly, Pumpkin lifted her hoof to the Emerald dangling from her ear. The gift from the White Tail King, Aster. How the White Tail’s world just… popped up into view, as the veil of reality weakened around them. Could it have happened again? It happened in Copse Vale, for sure - the rotting, untended dead and spirits of the lost draped the material plane in a layer of the Shadowfell’s magic.

But this was nothing like the Feywilds. It was dark, chilling, and home to the greatest trees - that scratched the very sky and blocked the light from the forest floor, far below. Of all the books she brought, she didn’t bring one on Planar Travel. The one book she needed right now! Instead, she brought a dozen romance novels, like the idiot mare she was.

“Hmmm…”

The little mare froze on the spot, a deep, rumbling voice shaking the trees from the roots to the creaking vines and leaves.

“Strange… not many dare visit my domain,” it said, the world she stood on submitting to the ageless voice around her. She could feel it shaking her to her core, forcing her to fall and kick at the dirt to slip away.

“W-Who’s there?!” she cried, pinned to the bark, and shaking like a leaf. Her eyes darted through the blackness surrounding her, searching - hoping to find the source of the voice before it found her. All at once, a massive, looming head fell into view - from the long neck of a scraggly, wood-formed cervine of sorts. A single glowing green eye constructed of glossy pine needles and vines pierced her, taking in the little witch.

“Your kind has long since fled my boughs branches, as the Dark Kin struck from the roots of wood. Now, only signs remain. Yet here, among the markings and scratchings of old - I find another lurking in the shade, alone. Very strange, very strange. I have not witnessed your ilk in many decades, little one. A curse of more wood to fall, or perhaps an omen of ill luck?”

It held its voice in a whisper, but that was loud enough to tremble the great leaves above.

“But I will answer your question, if you may answer mine in turn. I go by many names, but here, I am Trilvanos; Lord of the Deep Wood, Bearer of Boughs and Thinker of Thickets. I speak for the old branches that sway here.”

As he spoke this, dozens of luminescent fungi across his form lit up, glowing a faint sapphire - showing the ancient body he bore. Hundreds of hooves tall, made from branch and green vine - layers of bark stripping his wooden flesh in acres of ageless armor. His cloven hooves grew transparent as they approached the forest floor, vanishing into the dark much like the roots of the trees. His antlers bore leaves, like the canopy far above - two massive green maples that hung from his head. How he could walk through these woods without crashing into anything was a mystery.

“And who, standing under my shelter, are you? Are you alone, little one?”

Stifling the hammering heart in her chest took minutes, as she panted in heavy breaths to still her coursing blood. But Trilvanos was patient, as patient as a tree - and waited for her to speak. She used this moment to settle her thoughts, shuttering her urge to stutter and speak clearly. If he could give such an impressive title to himself, then she could do the same for her friends. Perhaps it would save her life.

“I… am Pumpkin Spice. I um… I travel with Princess Celestia, the pony who raises the Sun. Tempest Shadow, a-a warrior and scholar. Arin of the um…” Where did Arin say he was from again?... Right, Erenorn - or the Far Reaches. “Arin, of the Far Reaches, a-and Vee-ness, Dreamweaver and Witch of Canterlot.”

“A pony who raises the sun?...” he thought aloud, patiently - and steadily, to hold his words and speak true. “Any who bring light to these thickets are more than welcome by my side. Yet, I do not see her in your presence. Strange. Perhaps she treads the rooted realm of the Deepwood, much like you.”

He just believed her? No questions? No doubts? Or perhaps he had no concept of lies?

“What brings a Friend of the Light to my forest?” His massive ear - covered in leaves - lifted up to listen more intently to the little pony.

“W-We’re crossing through. A pony who controls the moon has taken the throne of Canterlot, and is bringing with her… a um, t-tide of everlasting night, a-and endless snow. If we can’t s-stop her, the sun may never rise again.”

His eye narrowed, homing in on her with scrutiny. As if weighing her words against the scales of fact or fiction.

“You bring much bad news to my realm. An enemy to the sun is an enemy to all trees. As small as the most pleasant of saplings, or as tall as to scrape the sky. Not just trees, but to those who I once led.”

His mind turned inwards, thinking quietly. Within seconds - she felt a faint pulse of magic flash across her form. The emerald in her ear twinkling brightly in the sun-rich golden light.

“The jewel you bare. Where did you acquire it, Sun Friend?” he asked, his sight growing gentle.

“U-Um… T-This?” She fondled the jewel, frowning. “I-It was a gift from King Aster, of the White Tail Deer. H-He um… m-made me an ambassador.”

“King Aster? Son of the Old Wood King, Lord Mapleheart?” His ageless eyes went wide at that - the faint green gleaming within his irises shining brightly. “A cherished creature you are, to be worthy of the Blessing of the Wild. Sun Friend, Cloven Heart - what a curiosity I’ve stumbled upon, and a pleasure to have striding among my roots. Of course you are welcome here. Now I hold worry for those you’ve lost. If you bear the Mark of Trees, then I assume they do not. Take upon my antler your body, I will find them.”

The shake of his branches offered her a branch to grasp - which she gently did, a vine slipping down to heft her weight up and keep her steady.

Gently, so as not to launch his guest - his head raised to the far branches above, the light shifting as the world swayed and sun grew close. His cracked wood lips pressed to the lowest branch - the green leaf maples of his antlers flashing with a burst of emerald light.

All at once, every tree’s branch, every leaf, every vine- tilted upwards. The sun burst through the crown of the forest and to the floor below, cleansing the dark of the roots and bringing unseen light to the endless pitch beneath them.