Verve

Rainbow Dash was soon carried quietly downstairs in Arin’s arms, a less-than-happy Celestia trailing close by his side.

“You’ve gotta admit, Tia - that was pretty funny.” Arin smiled, as the Princess’s magic coursed through her own hair in waves. Plucking hundreds, literal hundreds of feathers from her billowing strands with worry.

“I… I’m more worried about how her wings aren’t bald yet. How does she grow so many feathers so fast?! How! It makes no sense! I’ve been alive for thousands of years - I was there when the first issue of Pippley’s Believe it Or Else came out! And I’ve never heard of a single pegasi that could shed hundreds of feathers a day like this.”

Celestia lifted a wing, frowning. How did Vee preen purple feathers into her wing?! She’ll be feathered if she snooted those on her when she wasn’t looking. Which was true, by the way! She was feathered! Scoffing, the morning mare rolled her eyes - plucking out dozens more of the pinions, as they entered the crew quarters.

“No, please… d-don’t… I can’t sleep, c’mon big guy - keep me up…” Rainbow Dash groaned up to the Seraph, who laughed.

“It’s alright Dash. I can call you Dash, right? We’ve got dream catchers. Sleep in while you can - we should be arriving in White Tail Wood soon, to meet with King Aster and figure out a plan. Want me to wake you up for food, or do you want to rest until we arrive?”

“...What kind of food?”

“Whatever we have in the kitchen, I guess. I’m pretty sure there’s something left. Probably rations at this point, or some wild game, meat is-”

“Ew! Ew ew ew! That’s - that’s bucking disgusting! I’m not eating meat! Like, ew! Oh my gosh! Princess, how can you stand for this? That’s nasty!” Rainbow Dash nearly gagged while Arin set her tired body in the bed, the Seraph hoping she wouldn’t puke on him from the thought. Celestia could only shrug her wings.

“Before this journey, I would have almost agreed with you - the most I would touch was delicately tended eggs in the kitchens of Canterlot. Now? I believe I’m mostly over it. Ponies don’t need meat, my Subject - but we can enjoy it as an odd curiosity. Or if you’re Umbra, as a staple of one’s diet.”

“I do prefer a well seasoned steak, cooked rare, instead of peas and carrots any day, Princess Celestia,” Umbra confirmed, appearing from the dark. Celestia’s horn slammed a quarter-sized hole into the roof above - piercing into the captain’s cabin with a crash; startled half to death by the dark mare slinking in the shadows. Oarkin grunted in his half-sleep, rolling over in the crushed bed as something jabbed him in the back.

“By the feathers, Umbra! Don’t do that!” the Princess cried, wings pumping to pull herself from the wooden planks, settling her legs once more on the floor. Today was simply too much for her. First the rude awakening - not once, but three times, as Arin abandoned her in her rest, then Pumpkin was taken from her - and finally, when Rainbow Dash arrived. Then the preening incident. Now an overly shadowy mare is sneaking around in the dark to scare her. It was too much. Her scatterbrain could hardly process everything.

“Hey, that’s my line…” Arin frowned, but was unsurprisingly ignored.

“I simply wished to inform you that the engine will once again spark soon, and our journey will come to a rest in a sparse few hours,” Umbra deadpanned; she had no intention of startling the on-edge Princess, yet here she was.

Celestia raised a hoof to her chest with a deep inhale, before breathing out slowly with a wave of that very same leg. “I’m sorry. I’ve been growing a bit more nervous, especially as we approach the source of our problems. Now, let me make sure Rainbow Dash-...”

The Princess turned to the snoring mare, who swayed in the hammock contently beneath her own dream catcher. The engine roared to life beneath them, the ship humming with magic as it continued its journey beyond the Twin Peaks, and over the once distant, final road leading into the Unexplored West. Tempest reappeared from just around the stairs, holding a small lantern in her hoof.

“I’m going to need help moving the empty helium tanks to siphon air from the balloon, and settle the air pump on deck. Do I have a volunteer, or am I choosing one?”

The rest of the trip was rather uneventful; Vee needed time to think of a course of action, Umbra helped her commanding friend keep track of the balloon’s descent - and the familiar forests of Equestria soon graced the belly of the ship. By the guidance of a peculiar compass from Vee’s possessions, they had a course of action; they would glide silently over the train tracks, moor the ship in a clearing nearby - then trek on hoof towards the Pegasus Witch’s jumble of a house. With any luck, they’d return to the Feywilds by then.

From there, it would be - hopefully - easy to find the White Tail, as the veil between their reality and the material plane grows thinner by the hour.

And the plan went off without a hitch. The engine clicked off as the final barrel of Alchemist’s Fire was measured, the hull resting over a patch of dirt as the deflated balloon hung limply in the air; like a ghost in the trees, its blue tarp covered in a layer of snow - it blended in rather nicely. Now undetectable, the party gathered their scant belongings - ponies and Seraphs alike dropping to the forest floor without issue.

They gave one last errant gaze at the sun - Celestia now able to count the minutes remaining on her feathers.

“We have ten hours, until the Solar Plane ceases to exist in Equestria. Our time should be used well; to rest while we can, and prepare for the final battle.”

With little delay, and scant supplies - the party, save Oarkin and Umbra, never felt more relieved to be in familiar territory despite the strict time limit. Even Rainbow Dash seemed hopeful, but very much confused - it took a quick explanation to really fill her in on what’s going on. Luckily, she was kind of understanding of the whole debacle - it’s just another Tuesday for her. ‘Like of course there’s a secret society of deer in the woods - duh! I’m surprised Fluttershy didn’t find it first.’ - The Rainbow pegasus would yammer on, stroking her ego. She was, after all, an adventurous hero.

Already, this far from Silversun - fireflies buzzed faintly in the moonlight, lighting the forest in a spectacle of glowing flashes. Arin felt absolutely ecstatic - like he was passing through the portal into a fantasy land, mystery and magic overflowing more so than it did the realm they currently stood in. And much the same mood filled the minds around him.

Even in hoof-deep snow and freezing winds beneath the leaves, they trekked - an endless march into the receding cold, as wildlife flourished and grew abundant, despite the browning trees and freezing stems. All at once, six deer on either side joined them from the forested brush.

Umbra swiveled on her hooves, ears perking as emerald green magic gleamed across her horn. Tempest popped the dark mare’s bare flank with her short tail, frowning. With that, realizing she was among allies - Umbra relented, Oarkin giving a gentle laugh.

“So many deer! This is White Tail, yes?”

“Ambassador Pumpkin Spice! A wonderful sight to behold, and - more guests? Three, I count. A new… creature of Arin’s species, a Unicorn - and you are?...” a voice called, a familiar buck breaking into the clearing - while not as imposing as King Aster, General Falon was still a wonderful sight to behold, as he approached the group in full Feyglass Armor. Pumpkin almost completely forgot her rank bestowed upon her, not more than a week or so prior, and was taken aback to be called by name.

“The names Dash - Rainbow Dash, Second in Command to the Wonderbolts, and possibly the coolest mare you’ll ever meet.” With a puff of her chest, she gave a salute - as she rightly would, given her rank in the military. “I’m kinda a big deal, too.”

“Rainbow Dash? I’ve never heard of you. But on more important matters, we are very glad to see you, all of you. A great crisis is looming over our realm - it's been three years since your departure, and much has changed. Come. The Circlet is expecting you.” He withdrew a scroll - which fell to leaves in the open air after he gave it a flick with an ink-stained quill. Strange.

“Huh?... You… haven’t heard of me.” Rainbow Dash, fluttering her wings in the air, gawked - surely this was a prank. Like, for real. She had at least a dozen books written about her coolness, she made a cameo in one of Daring Do’s adventures, she’s saved Equestria at least a thousand times by now - she was the Element of Loyalty! Surely the word has gotten out to these… secret deer living a stone's throw away from Ponyville. Like, she could fly here in an hour from her house! What kind of rock were they living under?!

“Okay, maybe I didn’t understand you when you said they were a secret society or… something.” Dashie frowned, flapping her wings to Celestia’s side. “Like, next you’re going to tell me they don’t know what the Elements of Harmony are, or like… they don’t have radios, or something.”

Celestia smiled, rolling her eyes. To be as naive as Rainbow Dash would be a blessing sometimes. “In fact, they don’t have radios, and a great deal of many things as we do. You’ll simply have to see for yourself, Rainbow Dash.”

“What! So they’re just hiding in the trees? Like… Do they even have houses? Do they live in tents? It’s so cold - this is gonna be a snorefest!” At her complaints, General Falon fell an eye on the rainbow maned pegasus - smirking quietly as he led them north - to the refined roads of the White Tail’s lands.

The snow grew inches thinner, but still held weak strongholds of the icy powder in sparse piles as they approached the far fields of Silversun. First to loom were farms, which now held a peculiar sight - green crystals hovered above them, radiating soft, golden sunlight over the crops aplenty. There, the snow receded - fought back by the warmth. But still, not all farms were lucky to be blessed by magic - plenty of pastures were filled with struggling seeds and weak vines, the moonlight simply not enough to encourage plants to grow to their fullest.

“You see, Rainbow Dash, time in our realm passes differently than in yours. The Feywilds may slow to a crawl, or travel to a speedy gallop - nearly entirely at whims beyond our control. For now, the hours move roughly a seventh of the pace here than in the Material Plane. Though to keep things to scale, we track our time in twenty four hours periods; not by the setting of the sun or moon in your realm. There are many… issues we have faced living here. At times, we are stuck in an eternal Twilight - or caught in a long, ageless summer day. Though now, with the Lunar Eclipse upon us - the night has fallen eternal, and the magic of the Fey is depleting.”

The massive gates of Silversun soon broke the trees, looming with its intense, nature-enhanced beauty once more. Soft red shingles gleamed like bright rubies across the gold-laced sun-bleached stone, ivy tended well to climb along the swirls of branches that pressed into the brick; ageless and eternal, Rainbow Dash couldn’t help but gawk. Her wings came to a flapping stop, clopping her hooves to the floor to see the firefly lit beauty.

And this was just the front gate. Vee flapped right over the pegasus, shedding a feather to twirl down and poke her nose. With a sneeze, she snapped back to the moment - rousing her wings to pump once more, and settle in next to the group trekking forward without her.

The elegant branches of the front gate’s siege ready doors creaked and groaned; allowing the party and cervine soldiers to march unimpeded into the realms of the Autumn Court. The once bustling trade district seemed a little more barren; there were less carts for food and more carts for dried goods.

“I thought the Feywilds were a land of natural growth?...” Arin asked General Falon after spotting the crystals, the deer nodding his head in sorrow.

“Indeed it is. But the Lunar Magic is soaking into our arcane laced world, sapping away the heat and strangling away the roots. We are a refined culture, and we have planned ahead in case of famine - but perhaps not far enough. The great stores of Fey magic we’ve sheltered are simply not enough to fall in line with the demand; and produce is slow to yield. You may notice snow on the occasional roof now, as cold drafts have churned in the dark. The Feywilds have always been an echo of the Prime - the Material Plane. An immaterial place that exists in magic alone, and always. But it can not exist for long in these conditions. Come.”

He ushered them forward, as passing deer caught wind of the guests. Once fearful, the White Tail’s mood had shifted with the aegis of time - hope. There was a passing murmur of hope. That the light would come again, and the snow would melt away in a brilliant dawn.

Even in the cloudless moonlight, Silversun was such a treat to behold - the newer arrivals simply taking in the sights while they could. Drinking in the beauty of nature not tamed, but embraced - and cherished. A feat that ponies have stood defiantly against; that nature should be controlled, fought back. Here, the deer had no such notion. Simply another reason why the White Tail didn’t wish to live in harmony with their Equine neighbors.

The Castle gates once again accepted them - and soon their hooves fell on the marble halls once more. King Aster treaded down the aisle to meet them at a brisk pace, accompanied by two of his most loyal bucks.

“Princess Celestia! And my young Ambassador - I am pleased to see all of you, fresh faces included - but disheartened that you lack the dawn itself. I fear that it may soon be too late for us. Please, join me - the Autumn Winds is in session for now, and the future looks grim. Perhaps you could sway the senators to relax.” He plucked a parchment from his saddle in golden magic, much like Arin’s - twirling a long eagle quill along the pages in flourishes of his delicate calligraphy. In a flash of falling leaves, it was gone - a curious spell, perhaps restricted to the use of the Fey. They saw it just earlier, at the beckoning of General Falon.

“Relax?...” the Princess questioned, sharing a worried look with her Knight. Arin simply shrugged; what did he know of deer politics? Regardless, the King - obviously unsettled - turned to lead them in less-than-patient cloven steps. His white and gold-flecked coat almost seemed - dare anypony say it - slightly, ever so gently, perhaps minutely… a teensy bit unbrushed. Which for the party, was a relatively small detail. But for any well educated deer, or the morning mare - it was a sign of disarray and unbidden stress.

“King Aster, if I may inquire… what seems to be the issue?” Celestia questioned, joining his side. The bucks seemingly allowed it, but she could feel their scathing eyes piercing her with scrutiny. As if they’d spring at any moment, though she bore no weapons to harm him.

“A great deal of things.” His calm voice seemed strained - though he carried the same powerful, forest-willing voice as before - there was a shift in his pitch, to further denote his worry. “We are on the brink of war with Equestria. Your land. Your kind. If the Feywilds fall, the Senators will demand blood - retribution for the doom brought by the Nightmare’s reckless misuse of her power. My court is in a chaos of debates and debacles, and I will not stand for this clamor for destruction.”

The Princess had to fight back a gasp, as Arin suddenly felt the eyes of the soldiers - still guiding them - dig into his skin.

“But do not fret, my friends. You are all in good hooves. My men are loyal to me, and General Falon would never strike in cold blood. I chose these soldiers to protect you. Now is not a good time to blaze my trails nor ruffle leaves - my deer are growing desperate, and it shows through politics.”

“Wouldn’t all your soldiers die if they left the Fey? From the balanced magic?” Arin questioned, much to the scathing, ‘this is no time for you to talk’ eyes from Celestia. You know what? No. He was a former King; and should be treated as an equal. He was not below the Princess, not now - not when so much was at risk.

“That’s the issue. It’s suicide. I will not send my bucks to make corpses, before joining the pile. But we are in a stalemate; I myself hold the power of three Senators, as the bearer of the Circlet - but I have fourteen individuals with the voice of my kin to argue with. As it stands, hope is fading. Fresh food is scarce. The rations are running short, and within a few scant weeks - deer will grow hungry. They need a goal. A light. Something. And your voices may be enough to dissuade them from war, and stand to the side.”

Arin didn’t like that last point. Stand to the side… hide. Did… Did the King truly wish to rot in his castle while the world fell apart around him? Why? They were going to die if they couldn’t help them - were they really going to just let him and his friends handle everything?

By now, they travelled deeper into the Grand Hall - the mighty throne room meeting them at its end. The chattering voices of politicians and Noble houses clamoring in a cacophony of displeased leaders. The regal abode had been rearranged for the meeting, with cushions aplenty surrounding the throne. Eight pillows were saved for them, four on each side of the mighty chair. He must have held them in high regard, or perhaps, hoped that their presence would support his claims for peace.

“Miss Pumpkin Spice, you are my Ambassador to Equestria. As such, you sit on my right. I do not require you to speak. Princess Celestia, you will sit upon my left - as ruler of Equestria, you will bear the responsibility for my deer’s suffering in their eyes. I know you will not falter,” he whispered, setting the tone for events as the clatter of voices settled.

Celestia’s eyes travelled the crowd of nearly… fifty six deer, with the fourteen heads sitting proudly near the inner edge of the circle. They were flanked by two guards each, and a head to the Noble house they represented sat close at hoof as an advisor of sorts. The bucks and does had such scathing, hate filled eyes - gazes she had never personally experienced before in such quantity. Not even in her own Throne Room, on Tax Day.

“This does not look good,” Oarkin whispered loudly to Vee, who was still flapping idly in the air. Holding a fresh cuppa in her hooves, she offered it to Oarkin to hold. She dug around in her bag, withdrawing a checklist.

‘Make a grave mistake.’ Check.

When she raised her hoof to receive her drink back, Oarkin placed the now empty cup in her grasp. She looked inside, frowning. Gently, the Purple put the empty mug in her bag - turning back to her list. Vee looked it over, bringing a preened feather down the list with a sigh.

‘Make another grave mistake.’ Also check.

Perhaps visiting the White Tail first was a bad idea… And definitely not good for the feathers.