The Legend of Epona: Phantom's Reign

Seven Years Later

A trade caravan trekked along a dirt road through the woods. The sun beaming down from the open spaces of the trees gave the woods a mystical and wonderous atmosphere. One that'd draw the breath away from any wandering traveler. A group of ponies escorting the caravan were preoccupied with such a sight that they nearly did not see an old pony waddle in with a walking stick. Burly and gruff green hide that camouflaged him in the foliage, a blue cap on his head and camping equipment on his back. The pony pulling the cart came to a halt, causing one of the ponies behind the caravan to bump into it. The mare rubbed her muzzle and walked around the wagon, frowning.

"Oi! What's the hold up?" She asked, annoyed by the sudden stop. The old pony waved to them before stroking his white beard. The mare slumped. "Oh. Where in the bloody Tartarus were you? We expected to see you at the entrance to the woods. Figured you turned tail and ran." The old pony chuckled.

"Please. I was just making sure that the path you travel isn't infested with Fae magic." He replied. The stallion pulling the wagon rubbed the back of his head.

"Fae? I thought that this woodland felt a little too magical." He said. Another stallion, one clad in leather barding, smirked.

"Not like your Everfree." He nudged the stallion, receiving an annoyed look from the wagon puller that was rubbing his foreleg. Another pony stepped forward from the side of the wagon, looking around.

"I've heard tales of the Fae Lands. It's said that any pony who enters the woods ends up becoming a part of the woods. You are to keep yourself on the road in order to not have that happen. Taking one hoof step off the path and you'll suffer yourself to the ploy of the pixies." She explained. The other mare laughed.

"Please, the Fae are just legends. We may live in a world of myth and magic, but fairies haven't been documented for several thousands of years. I doubt the Fae magic is even around anymore." The other mare explained. The old pony smirked.

"Quite the statement. Yet, my years of camping out in these woods have shown me much that the wild magic of the Fae is still alive to this very day." He said. The leather clad stallion arched a brow.

"Right, right. But we aren't here to go over a history lesson on ancient magic long forgotten. We're supposed to reach Shire Shores and the only road to it goes through here." He said. The old pony nodded.

"At least one of you is wise to not linger." He said. The stallion replied with a shake of his head.

"We have a job to do. We aren't here to sight see." He shrugged. The old pony turned and motioned with his head.

"Then follow me. It's going to get a little narrow up ahead. But just follow where I step, and you should be through in no time." He said before walking forward. The four caravan ponies exchanged glances before moving back into formation and following after the pony. The woods shimmered spectacularly in the daylight. Captivating the travelers as they continued down the path. They soon began to cross a stone bridge, mossy and old. One of the ponies couldn't help but notice strange looking moss that looked to move slightly. Or perhaps it was a trick of her eyes. She curiously tilted her head and was about to poke it when the old stallion walked past her and nudged her flank with the walking stick.

"Best keep your curiosity in check, lass. Least ya' fall off and into the water." He said. The mare frowned, not pleased by the nudge. She peeked over the stone bridge, a shallow river flowing through. It was clear and sparkling from the sunlight. She noticed small fish swimming inside of it. She couldn't help but smile. There really was something fantastic about the serene beauty this woodland has. She turned and cantered to catch up to the caravan, unaware of the moss beginning to move away and slip into the water. The group traveled a bit further, circling what appeared to be a stone ruin of some kind. Whatever structure was here long ago was now just stacked stones and piled trees. The leather clad stallion looked on in awe.

"It's like we just walked into a whole other realm." He marveled. The wagon puller shook his head in stunned awe.

"More like going back in time itself..." He replied. The old pony tapped his walking stick, having managed to make it a bit further than the group.

"Hop to it, you lot! Just a bit further and you'll be free from the woods!" He called out. One of the mares walked by a stump and came to a halt. She had to do a double take. She could have sworn she saw something clear in the cracks of the stump. Her look furrowed curiously and was about to get a closer look when there was a crack of a twig by them. The ponies halted and looked around. The old pony grumbled, finding his patience tested by the gawking travelers. "Oi! Time's a wastin'!" He called out.

"Did you hear that?" The wagon puller asked. There was another snap of a twig. This time above them. They looked up, their eyes alert and scanning the area. Nothing but the cool breeze rustling the leaves. The leather clad pony snorted.

"Ahh, must be the cider gettin' to me. Probably just some squirrels. We are in woodlands after all." He asked. One of the mares looked around and her eyes widened. She wasn't sure if her mind was playing tricks on her, but her eyes fell onto something moving further off the side. Staring a bit longer, she noticed a pony walking around and scanning the ground. But... not just anypony. A filly. Her clay-colored hide didn't hide her presence. Let alone the white mane and tail that blackened at the roots. A white spot in the middle of her muzzle was a bit dirtied as the filly hummed softly and brushed aside some foliage. Was she grazing?

"H-Hey! Is that a filly?" The mare asked, pointing. The old pony frowned and shook his head.

"Ye' must be dreary from the walking. Care for a break?" He asked. The other mare balked and shook her head in disbelief.

"You're right... that's a filly!" She stated. The two stallions looked over. They could see her too. The young filly plucked several herbs from the ground and stuffed them into a whicker satchel. The old stallion rolled his eyes and trotted over to them. His eyes widened when he saw the same filly as everypony else.

"I'll be... A filly this far out in the woods? The nearest town isn't but another day out." He said. The wagon puller looked worriedly in the filly's direction.

"Sh-shouldn't we help her? She might be lost!" He asked. The leather clad pony narrowed his eyes.

"Seems she's a bit more preoccupied of picking herbs than anythin'." He replied. One of the mares didn't hesitate. She cupped her muzzle.

"Hey! Are you lost?! Do you need help?!" She shouted. The filly looked up from her picking and her eyes widened. In a blink of an eye, she turned and bolted into the thick brush, vanishing deeper into wherever she retreated too. The mare lowered her hooves. "Hey wait!! We aren't going to hurt you!! Come back!!" She called out. Silence only returned her call. The old pony stroked his beard.

"A filly out this deep and far into the woodlands? What an odd sight." His look darkened. "No... it couldn't be..." The leather clad pony arched a brow at him.

"Aye?" He asked. The old pony turned to the group.

"I have heard tales, but I've always wrote them off as nonsense. It has been said that the Fae favor innocence above all traits. Children are always full of imagination. It has been said that their imagination powers the Fae magic, allowing the denizens of the woods to manifest and manipulate other unfortunate wanderers. And the child is a victim of the Fae themselves. Not only are they the catalyst for their magic, but they are also the ones who are deemed "forever friends". They lose their memories of home and themselves. Become one with the woods. It has also been said that at night, when the spirits begin to roam, you can hear the laughter of the many lost children that have been taken, accompanied by music. The lost children are able to maintain their former shells to disguise themselves and lure in other wanderers who just want to help them." The caravan ponies' expressions looked grim. The wagon puller shivered and rubbed his foreleg, his eyes fearfully scanning the area around them.

"Th-that's quite a tale for sure..." he said nervously. The old pony nodded.

"Indeed. I won't deny, there might be a certain magic here that still lingers. But as to what the tales describe it, it is just residual. Perhaps the filly actually lives here in these very woods. With any luck, we might run into her again." He then stretched, wincing in pain as an audible crack in his back told him to rest. "Oof... perhaps we should take a break. My back is killing me."

"Don't keel over yet, old codger. Don't want ya' to become one with the forest just yet." One of the mares grinned. The other, however, was still scanning the woods. The group took shelter in the fallen ruins and began to rest themselves. Yet, their minds couldn't help but wander off to the sight of the filly. Even the old pony was beginning to think that the tales might not be too far-fetched. After some time, the leather clad pony unpacked some rations of bread, carrots and potatoes, passing them out to them. The group began to help themselves to their food. The wagon puller pony was about to take a bite of his carrot when his ears flicked at the sound of twigs breaking beside him. He looked fearfully to his side, only to see that nothing was there. Nothing except for a face of a filly peeking around a fallen stone. He blinked and stood up, catching the attention of the others.

"It's her..." he whispered.

"What?" One of the mares asked before being shushed by the wagon puller. The filly ducked back behind the stones. He looked to the carrot and had a small idea. If this filly truly is lost, he wants to help her. He took a couple of hoofsteps forward and placed the carrot down on the ground before backing away slowly.

"Is this what you want?" He asked. The other ponies squinted their eyes, trying to see if they could spot the filly. It wasn't long until they saw a side of a face peek out around the corner. The filly remained where she was, uncertain of the intention of these ponies. The wagon puller laid down on his stomach and pat the ground, smiling. "It's alright. We won't bite. You must be hungry. That carrot is for you." The filly began to cautiously crawl out of her hiding. Blue eyes studied the pony before falling onto the carrot.

The other ponies watched with bated breath, finding this interaction to be quite interesting. None of them still couldn’t believe they found a lost filly in the woods. The filly leaned in and sniffed the carrot. No pony moved as they waited for the filly to see if the carrot had been poisoned or some other kind of wild speculation in her head. They felt relieved when the filly sat on her haunches and began to chew on the carrot. Her tail swishing, pleased with the delicious vegetable.

“See? Kept fresh and ready for all kinds of snack emergencies.” The pony said. The filly chewed bits of the carrot, seemingly only finding the carrot to be interesting. That was until she sniffed the air and her eyes fell to their ration pack. The wagon puller pony looked over and smiled, getting up carefully and reaching into the sack, withdrawing several vegetables. Cabbage, celery, potatoes and more carrots. The filly looked star struck at the sight of the food. “You want some? Have as much as you’d like.” He said.

“But not the whole sack, please. We need that for the trip home.” One of the mares chimed in. The filly looked between the ponies before scooting over to food. She leaned down and sniffed the cabbage, taking a small bite. The filly scrunched her muzzle and stuck her tongue out, wiping her tongue with her hoof. She frowned at the cabbage and pushed it aside. She went to the celery stalk. The filly found this pleasing. The potatoes tasted weird to her and feeling indifferent about it, she pushed it aside before helping herself to the carrots, which she seemed to enjoy much more than the others.

“Hehe. Quite an interesting young lass, isn’t she?” The old pony chuckled. “What’s yer’ name, dear?” The filly flicked her ear and looked to him, swallowing her carrots before opening her mouth. Her eyes widened before she could say anything and covered her muzzle. This caused the ponies to arch a brow. The filly scanned the ground and beamed at the sight of a stick. She picked it up and began scribbling down words in the dirt. The wagon puller titled his head, unable to make any sense of the calligraphy.

“What… kind of language is that?” He asked. The filly tapped the calligraphy with her stick, as if wanting him to look closer. When he did, he shook his head with a frown. “I… still don’t know this language.”

“What language?” One of the mares asked, trotting over to him. She looked and rubbed her chin. “Strange. It’s not old pone-ish. Nor is it Neighponese. This is… I don’t even know what it is.” The filly slumped and scribbled more symbols on the ground. This time, a child like drawing of an equine figure with a symbol on the side. The mare blinked and studied the drawing. “Hmm… that symbol is familiar…” she said. The filly tapped the horse and the symbol with her stick before motioning to herself. The mare tilted her head this way and that, reaching into the very back of her mind in her old history studies.

The mare’s eyes widened a bit in understanding. “That symbol… of course!” She cantered over to the wagon and withdrew a book from her saddle bag. She walked back over to them, flipping through the pages before coming to a stop and pointing at the symbol. “It’s the symbol of a goddess. I thought I recognized it. Though… the name is a bit lost in the translation. Ipno? Pona? Nopa?” She suggested the names in hopes of getting the filly to confirm it. However, the filly stared blankly at her with a tilt of her head, chewing on a carrot.

The old pony waddled over to them and looked at the page.

“Err… dear, perhaps maybe something a bit more understandable? How about this.” He took his walking stick, scribbling into the ground. “I’m certain a smart filly like you can understand us. You can understand us, right?” The filly nodded.

“So, why not speak then?” The other mare asked. The old pony shook his head.

“Perhaps she doesn’t speak it fluently and can only understand it in her head.” He said. He then pulled away and nodded to the filly. In front of them was the entire alphabet of their language. “See which letters resonate with you. We can piece it together then.” The filly studied the letters before taking her stick and pointing to “E”. She then pointed to four more letters before stepping back.

“Epona?” The wagon puller pony asked. The mare with the book beamed.

“Epona! Of course!” She smiled and went back to the wagon, digging through their things. Leaving her preoccupied, the ponies looked back to Epona.

“What an unusual name. But somehow… fitting.” The leather clad stallion said. Epona beamed and nodded. Her eyes then widened and she slinked back away from them. The ponies exchanged glances before sensing something behind them. They turned and in shocked yelps, stepped back as a buck stood eyeing them. The deer looked between the ponies, a bow and quiver slung on his back. A wicker satchel at his side. The buck was handsome and had a white chest and underbelly, a tan coat and emerald eyes.

“A deerling?” The old pony gasped. The buck eyed the pony before adjusting the bow on his back.

“A pony. Much like our young wanderer here.” He replied, eyeing Epona. The filly bowed her head, showing guilt like a cookie thief. The wagon puller glanced between them and stood in front of Epona. The buck arched a brow before smiling. “Do not fear for the filly’s safety. She, in fact, belongs to my herd.” The mare that was rummaging through the wagon finally pulled back with a beam and turned around, bumping into the deerling. She squeaked and shrunk back a little as the buck looked over his shoulder.

The mare’s surprise turned to awe.

“No way… an actual deerling! There really is a tribe in this region!” She marveled. The leather clad pony crossed his hooves.

“Hold on a minute. A tribe? Didn’t think these woods had natives living here.” He said. The mare nodded.

“Because the deer folk are seclusive. They prefer to keep themselves in their environment.” She said. The deerling smiled.

“Rare to find a trespasser who knows some what of the deerling tribes.” He said. The mare beamed and nodded before her look blanked.

“Trespassing?” She asked. The buck sighed and looked to the ruins.

“You’re lucky to have met Epona here. If I had caught you all soliciting, let’s just say, you’ll be all intimately accustomed to the deerling tribe’s ways.” He replied. Epona looked shocked at the reactions of the ponies. Fearful and anxious looks made them shiver.

“A-and what do deerlings… do to trespassers…?” The wagon puller gulped. The deer eyed them, his look stern and looking to kill. Then, he smiled and began to laugh softly, waving a hoof.

“I only jest. We aren’t savages. In fact, it’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to outsiders.” He said. The ponies looked confused. Epona frowned and crossed her hooves at the buck. He gave her an apologetic smile in return before looking back at the mare. “Yes, we like to keep to ourselves. Rarely do we ever leave the woods. Those that do, we do not shun them. Once in a blue moon, you’ll see one out in Equestria. Maybe two.” He trotted over to the rejected cabbage and picked it up, taking a big bite out of it.

The ponies were baffled.

“S-so… you aren’t going to turn us into trees?” The wagon puller asked. The buck nearly choked on his cabbage, taking a moment to pat his chest to swallow.

“Ahem. We aren’t nymphs. Deerlings don’t have magic like you ponies do. Only ancestral respect.” He said. The old pony stroked his beard, fascinated by the second interesting character to grace their presence.

“Fascinating. So… what are you called?” He asked. The buck smirked.

“I am called a blunder by the elder. But if you are asking for my name, in your tongue, it is Bastion.” He bowed courteously. The deerling had managed to break the ice with the ponies. Epona and Bastion sat next to each other as Bastion began answering questions from an overly excited scholar. A tribe of hunters and gatherers mostly, with minimal influence from the outside world. They speak a different language that, in most cases, requires at least a few of their tribe members to go out into the world and study up for several years of equestrian language so they can speak with outsiders.

It surprised them to know that the deer folk were quite open to outside visits, so long as respect for their habitat is maintained. Which, as Bastion explained, that the deer folk enjoy pony conversation more than anything. He explained it had to do with kindred unity. The ponies couldn’t understand what he meant, despite his best attempt at explaining it. Seeing as the meaning wouldn’t get anywhere, he only smiled and pat his chest.

“Just believe me when I say that we welcome our Equine neighbors openly.” He finished. The mare that was asking questions was writing all of this down, leaving the other mare to finally ask the question.

“So, what about the other tribes? The Yaks? Zebra? Griffons and Hippogriffs? They get some kind of certain welcome?” She asked. Bastion rubbed the back of his head.

“Hard to explain really. We’ve never seen Yaks or griffons in the woods. Let alone know what a Hippogriff is. As for Zebra, once in a blue moon. There is one that is considered an honorary member amongst our tribe due to her helping with medicine.” He snickered. “Always spoke in rhymes. That she did. But wise in the ways, almost all the time.” The leather clad pony rubbed his chin before pointing at Epona.

“So. How did yer’ tribe come to adopt a filly?” He asked. Bastion’s look remained pleasant, but wary now.

“Ahh, that is an interesting story. This little bristle pain was left abandoned by her own herd as a babe. We found her tucked into a tree and cared for her ever since.” He said, ruffling her mane. Epona batted at him and frowned. The scholar mare looked mortified.

“That’s awful!” She proclaimed. Bastion nodded grimly.

“Indeed. We have accommodated her as best we can. We are still teaching her how to speak your tongue. So that one day, she would go venture out on her own.” He said. Epona glanced at him, looking a bit saddened by his words. The old pony stroked his beard.

“I’ve camped these woods for many years and it still continues to surprise me.” He said. Bastion ears flicked as he eyed the pony.

“The old hermit. Our tribe has been watching you for quite some time. You’re lucky you didn’t wander too far in. Otherwise, you’d have ended up in the Fae Wilds.” He said. The old pony blinked and looked quizzically at him.

“I… beg your pardon?” He asked. Bastion nodded.

“Scouts have been reporting about an old pony camping and exploring the wonders of the woods. We never approached because you weren’t hurting the wildlife. In fact, some of my people were interested in the fact that some pony had a fascination with nature.” He explained. The old pony nodded slowly.

“I… see… but go back a little. You mentioned… Fae Wilds?” He asked. Bastion tilted his head, giving him an understanding look.

“Oooh, right. There is one thing I left out about our heritage. We were once in coherency with the Fae moons ago. Several thousand in fact. We tend to refer to certain areas of this forest that once was filled with Fae magic as the Fae Wilds. We’ve unfortunately have seen many who have gone a little mad at hearing voices and even dancing about in clearings as if under a spell. Nothing a little remedy can’t counter. But still dangerous.” Epona nodded grimly.

The ponies went a bit pale.

“S-so Fae magic is still around?” The scholar mare asked. Bastion sighed and made a so-so motion.

“Ancient magic has dwindled for the past several generations. In fact, we’ve began to notice that magic has been… struggling.” He said. The other mare blinked and furrowed her look.

“Is that so? That… honestly I believe that.” She said. The others looked at her as she continued. “A friend of mine in Baltimare was trying to help open up a new shop. Several workers, who were quite adept with heavy lifting magic, couldn’t even lift a half full luggage. It was as if they had lost all strength with their magic. Not only that, there has been talk of several ace Wonder Bolts in Cloudsdale that had early retirement because they couldn’t fly as well as they used too. It was always chalked up to them pushing themselves a little further than usual, but Captain Rainbow Dash swears up and down that her best fliers lost their ability to fly properly.”

The ponies went quiet. Bastion and Epona exchanged glances. The filly crossed her hooves and began to think quietly to herself. Bastion cast a knowing look towards her before taking a quiet deep breath and stood up.

“Well. It has been fun chatting with you all. We’ll escort you out of the woods. The tribe will be wanting us back soon.” He said. The scholar mare blinked.

“Wha? But I still have so many questions!” She said sadly. Bastion smiled.

“Another time if you ever pass by again. Though, there is no guarantee you’ll see me, any deerling is open to outside questions.” He replied. Epona gave an apologetic look at the mare. The old pony nodded and stood up.

“Aye. Twill be sunset at this rate.” He said. The ponies began packing up their things, Epona and Bastion observing them before they met up at the road. Bastion took the lead, Epona right beside him. The deerling led them to a shortcut after some time and before the caravan ponies knew it, the open field leading to the next town over expanded before them. They bid the ponies goodbye and watched them go further and further down the road.

Epona chewed on a carrot she snuck out from their ration pack, scanning the sunset field in a longing look. Bastion glanced at the filly, catching her look.

“Does it remind you of your home?” He asked, speaking in a different dialect than poneish. Epona nodded sadly. Bastion rubbed the back of his head. “Come on. We better head back before the Elder gets worried.” Bastion turned and walked back into the woods. Epona gave one last look of the open field. As if a distant memory of her just galloping freely among the fields like she did as a filly years ago in her old home reemerged.

Her ears flicked, her mane blowing in the wind. Somewhere out in the field, she could hear her song. As if it was calling to her to come back home. Epona could see a faint silhouette of a young boy in the field. Her eyes widened, seeing him put a leaf to his lips, whistling the tune of her song. She turned back and began to canter down the fields, picking her pace into a gallop. Bastion turned.

“Epona? Come back!” Bastion called out. He cantered after her, able to keep up with the filly. Yet, when she came to a stop, she looked around. The boy had vanished. Bastion eyed the filly worriedly. He wasn’t sure what to expect from a creature that fell from the skies. Epona’s ears dropped and she sat on her haunches, bowing her head. Bastion sighed and sat down next to her. “Is it the song again?” Epona softly nodded. Bastion rubbed the back of his head.

“I wonder why a song would get you to listen to something other than the Elder.” He said. Epona rose a hoof and studied it. She still hasn’t come to terms about this whole change. She needs to get back. Her rider needs her. None of these creatures would be able to understand that. She sighed and stood up, turning to walk back to the woods. Bastion gave her a concerned look. He then bowed his head and shook it. “That filly is one tough cookie.” He said before getting up and cantering over to then walk next to her.

The two were quiet as they made their way back, going deeper and deeper. They eventually began to cross a second stone bridge, one that was made up of only stepping rocks. At the other side were several trees forming an arch, as if a whole other world was waiting for whoever stepped through. Epona began to step in a certain way, the rocks glowing at her hooves and when she got to the end, from an observer’s point of view, she would vanish into a swirling wisp. Bastion followed after her and the two found themselves in a quaint little hamlet.

The trees winding and thick but small leafy and fungi furnishes were telltale signs of a residence. Woodland critters scurried about this way and that, hanging up decorations for a festival of rite. Epona stopped and looked up to see a banner overhead, written in the Fae language. It read:

Congratumatations!

Bastion frowned.

“Sibil!” He called out. From the birds that were hanging up the decorations around the banner, a hummingbird flew down and hovered in front of them.

“Ahh, welcome back you two!” The nasally hummingbird said. “Word already got out about Epona meeting those travelers.” Epona bowed her head. Sibil looked at her worriedly. “I don’t think you are in trouble, Epona. But the Elder does want to talk to you.” Bastion crossed his hooves.

“Where’s Holly? She’s supposed to be here curating the decorations. And who misspelled ‘congratulations?” He asked. Sibil floated up to face him.

“Err… funny you mention that. Holly is around here helping out. I just… don’t know where she went. As for the spelling, we errr… couldn’t get Gwarp to leave. So… we gave him something to do.” He said. Bastion sighed.

“You know, you can just give him some of the gems to keep him occupied.” He said. Sibil looked apologetically at him. Bastion sighed again. “He ate them.” Sibil shook his head.

“More like used them for decorations on Flabery’s posey garden. She’s not taking it so well.” The hummingbird replied. Bastion rubbed his muzzle.

“Great. And what about Casper? Don’t tell me he’s slacking off again.” He said. Sibil tilted his head.

“Is… that a trick question?” He asked. Bastion bowed his head.

“Alright then. I’ll guess I can take it from here. Epona.” He turned to look at her. “When you are done talking to the Elder we could use a helping hoof around here. It’ll also be great to tell Casper to get off his lazy bum and help out when and if you see him. I swear, that deer has no responsibility at all.” Epona watched Bastion drag his hooves over to handle another issue with several fairies that were creating a small bonfire. Epona looked to Sibil and the bird gave her an apologetic look.

“Sorry about that, Epona. But you know the woods are always watching. You know how the Elder is when it comes to outsiders. But he does genuinely care about you. Go rest up a bit and we’ll see what you can help with.” Sibil quickly flew up to catch a falling string and helped the other birds reattach it.

Epona sighed and trotted away from the ongoing festival works. She crossed a wooden bridge that winded just a bit over a marsh. A rocky tortoise lifted his head up and smiled, greeting Epona as she crossed. Several pixies that flew over head as she trotted down another path greeted her as she walked by. Epona waved back, smiling softly. Everycreature here always had something going on. Despite the several thousand years of isolation from the modern realm, the Fae folk continued to live prosperously.

All working together under the Elder’s law. The Elder was as much a mystery to her as she is to everycreature else. Epona wished she could talk properly. She had so many questions about the outside world. But the Elder told her that speaking in the Fae language would drive any creature mad. And despite the deerlings helping her understand most languages, she struggles to still speak pone-ish, which is nearly universal in the outside world.

Epona dreaded ever having to speak to others without properly learning their language. She continued down the stone path with glowing fungi acting as lamps. Eventually, she turned to face a giant log connecting to the next area of the Fae woods. She stopped as she noticed a gnome-ish looking creature standing in front of the log entrance with a few red caps around him. Epona tilted her head and got a bit closer.

"...If the Elder won't do anythin' about it, we will!" One red cap said with a snarl. The gnome frowned, arms crossed.

"The Elder understands your issues, red cap. But he is not accepting any visits today." He replied. The lead red cap waved a hand in dismissal.

"To rot with that! He best start payin' mind to us or else that pretty lil' pony might end up in the wrong end of the woods." He said sharply. Epona arched a brow and shook her head. The gnome noticed her and gave a sigh. The red caps noticed this and turned; a disgusting smile spread across one's face. "Speak of the freak." The lead red cap crossed his arms. "Still lookin' for that song again? Best ye' follow it soon, lil' filly." He smirked and pushed past her, Epona frowning as she watched the red caps waddle away. The gnome scoffed and shook his head.

"Eh, give Piligry time. With the disturbances that have been happenin' around the woods, every creature is antsy." The gnome stated. Epona looked to him and tilted her head. The gnome blinked. "Oh right. Word gets out from the outside but here it's a whole other matter. It's... nothing to do with you, that's a promise. Though if you are wanting to know, ask the Elder. He's been wanting to speak with you." The gnome pat Epona on the head, ruffling her mane. The filly shook her head and tried to fix her mane, only to give up and turn to face the log entrance as the gnome creature walked off. Leave it to Hildebert to try and bring reason to the Fae woods. Bastion could use the help. Epona took a deep breath and stepped into the log, walking further in before stepping out and seeing the side of a massive tree. The very heart of the Fae woods. At the base is a hollowed-out shire home. One specifically meant for the one who truly tamed the Fae Lands.

Epona gulped a bit. It wasn't her first time being in trouble with the Elder. But at this point, she's been nothing but a walking catalyst of it. Lately it just feels like it's been getting worse to help around the place. She doesn't belong here. Nor in this world. She had to find a way home. The tune of her song whistled in her ear and she looked over her shoulder.

'Hold on, Link. I'll find a way back.' She thought.