Gleam

The filly was crying and sniveling rather pitifully when Hocus Pocus prodded her. Surely the megar burns weren't as painful as she was portraying them to be? He prodded her in the stomach once more while pointing his horn. He shifted awkwardly and moved away. A soft sob interrupted him. Honestly, he was unsure of why he was feeling bad.
After some searching, he pulled a simple healing potion from his saddle bag and nudged it toward the still-crying child, setting it down on the ground. That was his day's good deed. Pocus took a few steps back before fleeing into the apple orchard.

Petal grass hadn't moved for several hours. Her father would be worried about her. The strange stallion she encountered in the woods had left her shaken. What kind of unicorn is capable of destroying trees? She has only ever seen the strange man Mr. Legacy brought to the house, whose gleaming horn she thought was quite lovely. Fresh tears began to well up in Petalgrass's eyes as the skin on her hindquarters and hooves began to peel and sizzle. Several places on her hooves were cracked as well. She spread her wings and snuck a look at the tiny vial of fluid the strange stallion had left. Maybe he left it there for her? She struggled to move closer to it despite beating her wings quickly to gain momentum. With cracked hooves, picking up the vial was quite difficult; it slipped and shattered on the ground. She was suddenly overcome with fear and began licking the liquid off the ground before it had a chance to soak in. Petalgrass' stomach burned, and her eyes started to water. She felt like she had swallowed a lit match. Deep within her stomach, the trail of fire settled. After a short while, the burning subsided and was replaced by a cooling sensation. Petalgrass observed how her hooves mended and how the burns faded. She almost twisted her hooves in surprise as she jumped to her feet. She fled in the direction of her farm house while frantically turning around to see if the strange man was still there.

When she first arrived at her house, Evercrisp glared at her with dagger-like eyes that tore at Petal grass with each step. She tried to enter through the kitchen while appearing smaller, hoping that her sister wouldn't bother her today. She flew upstairs as quietly as she could, taking care not to bump into the stairway. She made her way back downstairs and picked up the abandoned gardening tools from this morning before galloping off. Father had let her grow strawberries by herself, and she was so ecstatic she might pass out. When Petalgrass greeted her father, she was practically skipping; Gravestine had given a fleeting smile. Petalgrass grinned, knowing that of all his children, she was the one her father loved the most. A quiet stallion, Gravestine spoke infrequently and showed little emotion on his face. However, Petalgrass would always look forward to those market days when her mother and siblings would depart and a gentle smile would appear on his typically worn face.Together, they would cuddle while he made fluffy, soft potato pancakes. As he took care of the fields and gave her a soft smile, she would watch him with wide eyes. The moment he put her to bed was the one she loved the most. He would read her a book, lulling her to sleep with his soothing, soft voice.

She was now going to grow her own food like a big girl! Despite having a gardening trowel as her cutie mark, Petal Grass had no talent for growing apples because she was unable to harvest them or raise them to adulthood.
She trembled while holding the garden hoe in her mouth as she imagined some fresh strawberries. Mr. Legacy would be shocked! She might also share some with the man he brought. She liked the adoring slow, little smile he gave her. She turned her head, saw yellow eyes glinting in the forest, and nervously stepped closer to her father. Her mind wandered back to her strawberries and the surprise she had in store for her friend (a cake!). Petal Grass kept a close eye on Gravestine as she brought out the strawberry seeds before trotting over to her plot of land and starting to dig quickly. She patted dirt over the tiny seeds after dropping them, flapping her wings in glee. Her strawberries would be the very best ever! The best her father had ever eaten!

By the time dusk fell, Petalgrass had put up fences, planted seven plants, and provided them with fertilizer and water. Her father stood a distance away and nodded slowly. Sweaty and panting, she trudged up to her father as they began their journey back home. Her mother had been preparing a feast when they arrived. Apple Gallete gave her a bewildered look before breaking into a wide grin. It wasn't unusual for Petal Grass, who would frequently flee to Mr. Legacy's home during her mother's outbursts. He didn't give her strange looks—just tight-lipped smiles. The platters of fried cauliflower, gravy, mashed potatoes, hay, and beans caught her attention as she peered over the counter. The apple family was a big one, as was well known. Petal Grass was the smallest and the youngest of the family, boasting an impressive number of cousins, siblings, aunts, and uncles of all kinds. She was a pegasus who had come from a family of only earth ponies.

Stranger still, her cutie mark had been a trowel. The family had surrounded her in horror, their comments and stares piercing right through her. The best course of action would be to keep quiet and pay attention. It was better to be seen and not heard. Gravestine had named her after the green-colored flowers that grew in wispy, tiny bundles and crunched under people's feet. She was a wallflower, perhaps. When she turned 2 years old, Gallete gave her to her father and preened over her two older siblings. She had no desire to interact with the child. Her father had explained that it was because her mother was ill. In any case, Petal Grass didn't like her. Petal Grass had washed up and sat down like the good child she was. She consumed relatively little food, circling it with her spoon. Petal grass couldn't stop thinking about the odd man in her orchids. She saved her dinner, hoping that would make him go. He must have been starving. Who doesn't enjoy home-cooked food? She had always wanted to meet a unicorn and had hoped he would allow her to touch his horn. Perhaps she would make a new friend. Petalgrass grinned while kicking her feet.

Petalgrass patiently waited until nightfall while listening intently for her mother to fall asleep (she snored rather loudly). She had balanced the plate in her mouth before leaving while struggling to lift the window. She started to feel uneasy as she made her way closer to the forest—what if this wasn't a good idea? What if he caused harm to everyone or the apple trees? She mustered all her courage and softly yelled, "Hello." There was no response after a few moments. She called out again, this time louder as she got closer. "I- I brought you food; I hope you're not starving." Several feet away from her, a tree had been struck by a golden light, and Petal Grass erupted in fear. The tree had smoldered and smoked. Before her, glowing eyes had appeared. ”I DO NOT NEED ASSISTANCE FROM PEASANTS.” Petalgrass put her hooves over her head and squeaked. Hocus Pocus was observing her from above, his mouth twisted into a snarl. “The blatant incompetence of you peasants infuriates me."
”I just wanted to help," she said, lifting up one tiny eye.

A tiredness seemed to settle over his eyes. The sunset light bounced off his eyes, making them glitter. He hunched over, and his shoulders sagged. As Petal cautiously opened both her eyes, she saw that he was filthy. His clothes were ripped, and he had numerous cuts on his neck and flank. Pocus sagged to the ground, his energy gone. He had no energy to fight. As she brought the plate nearer to him, Petal Grass gave him a quiet glance. She saw a tear drop to the ground. She quickly turned her head away and said nothing as he ate, shoveling food into his mouth as quickly as he could. He snapped, "Stop oggling me!" Petal Grass looked at him, then she started to giggle. Hocus Pocus's eyes widened, and then he thinned his eyes at her. Finally, he relented and let down his walls. Petal grass leapt to her feet and exclaimed, "I COULD TAKE YOU HOME AND I COULD GIVE YOU A BATH AND CLOTHES." Pocus had smiled while watching her as she rambled on incoherently.

The strange filly had painstakingly dragged Pocus inside and scrubbed him raw. She dumped bucketful after bucketful on his head. Pocus screamed in pain from the scrubbing. He would be sleeping in a barn, she had said, his wounds bandaged. He was left with no choice but to look at the younger child with pleading eyes; at least it wasn't cold. With each minute that passed, his eyes grew more heavy. Petalgrass' mellow humming gently rocked him to sleep.

Pocus had only woken up today because Petalgrass had doused him with a bucket of water.
She poked him twice in the stomach. He simply rolled on top of her. She screeched at him to move, but he didn't budge. Pocus murmured drowsily, "I wake up when I want to." He gave her a dirty look and shut his eyes once more. "May I touch your horn?" Petal Grass inquired.
“NO.” He snorted. She was laughing hysterically. Afterward, she began poking him in the cheeks. Hocus Pocus opened one eye to glare at her.

He was, in fact, furious, seething even. He pictured his mother and grandmother searching through all of Equestria for him, probably tearing the kingdom apart. That part placated him. Although Canterlot Castle was the pinnacle of opulence and opulent living, from which he had fled, he actually found everyone there to be quite dreary. The over-the-top royals there bore no appeal to him. Flashing pearl teeth and fake smiles annoyed him. In truth, Hocus Pocus had no interest in his grandparents. Twilight and Sombra were merely two more royals to whom he had to smile and extend a cordial greeting in a manner that his mother considered appropriate.Instead, he had decided to accept his fate as that of a self-centered, festering wound who would rip everyone apart for his own gain.

In some ways, Pocus was perhaps a coward; he fled even though he was to be courted and given the title of king. Since he found them all to be so unbearably boring, Pocus had never given any of this any thought and simply nodded in agreement.

The words meant nothing to him, he could tell what they were. A death sentence.
Words were only keys in his eyes, tools he could use to achieve his goals.

Was he really selfish, though? Perfection did not exist within a creature.