The Heart of the Forest

Prince Blueblood of Equestria was many things, most of which he and he alone was happy to expound upon to anyone willing (or forced) to listen, the rest of which anyone who knew him could say, but wouldn't in polite company.

One thing he most definitely was not, however, was an outdoorspony. Despite being one of the most famous ponies in Equestria, enveloping the thoughts of most mares (and ten percent of stallions) who'd never spoken to him and haunting the thoughts of those who had, it's unlikely anyone had ever imagined him and any kind of backwoods or wildland in the same context.

It would therefore, most likely, surprise anyone to find him travelling carefully through the Everfree Forest, one of the most untamed and magically wild places known to ponykind. And it would absolutely floor them to discover that he was even grumbling about being there and had actually chosen to go.

This was not to say he was in a good mood, though that was rarely the case in any environment with insufficient cushions, peeled grapes and mirrors. It also wasn't helped by the dreadfully unfashionable bodysuit he was wearing and the fact its tight hood was disrupting his majestic mane – an unfortunate necessity, as his dedication to elegance wasn't quite to the point of suicide, as it would need to be to refuse the protection and stealth enchantments the suit provided.

Nevertheless, on most days, he would have never chosen to be where he was. In fact, he wouldn't have even noticed the assignment for some guards to go to the castle hidden within the forest and retrieve an item for his Auntie (or Aunties, as it now was – a fact he still wasn't sure how to feel about), much less volunteered to undertake it himself... or, for that matter, forced the issue when the guards assigned refused.

Today wasn't most days, however. Today was Hearth's Warming, and the further away from Canterlot and, for that matter, from civilization he was, the more he'd likely enjoy the day.

Admittedly, this was partially his own choice – while he might have been able to tolerate the holiday if he simply holed himself up in his mansion all day and refused to leave or see anyone, the moment this was noticed, it would cause severe problems for his greater life. At best, he would get a reputation for it that would hurt him socially and, at worst, some of the more perceptive and hawkish creatures at court might spot a potential weakness. As such, he usually had to find some reasonable and non-suspicious reason to get away from the capital for the day, and while a cruise or tropical vacation was a good fallback, being away on official business was even better.

Still, it was better than staying and engaging in his usual social proclivities, among all those nobles, with all their gifts and all their finery and all that gold and silver and... platinum...

He was brought out of his thoughts by a tiny juddering on his foreleg, the barely audible buzzing of his vibrating bracelet reaching his ears a fraction of a second later. He let out a slow breath as he looked down at the now-dimly-lit bulbs on the bracelet and, more specifically, at the colours they showed – two green, one red, one yellow and three purple.

Right, so red means to add the number of yellows, yellow to add the number of purples, purple means take away the number of blues... but there are none, so I can discount them, and green means add the number of greens times the number of oranges, so again, none, so... four.

He tapped the button on the bracelet four times before resuming walking, bracing himself for the flash that would happen should something go wrong. Not that it was likely, as he was perfectly capable of doing the calculations to send the countersign, but you could never discount the possibility of something going wrong, either due to circumstances or other ponies' idiocy.

Still, it wasn't a major danger, as the worst that could happen is that the assigned guards would teleport to the beacon within the bracelet, be assured everything was fine and then teleport back again. Really, the system was very elegant – should any true danger occur, he could send a pulse of magic into the bracelet near-reflexively, raising the alarm and bringing the guards to deal with it. And, as unlikely as it was, should anything happen to prevent that, he was contacted one-and-a-half minutes, with failure to give the countersign within thirty seconds taken as a sign something had gone wrong. So, whatever happened, his guards would be there within two minutes and, while hardly a battle wizard, Blueblood knew he could survive for that long.

The only inconvenience was the calculation needed to figure out the countersign, but that was necessary in case his mind had been compromised. There were many creatures that could control a pony's thoughts – changelings, kelpies, sociopathic or insane unicorns – but none known that could do so while letting them keep all their faculties. Thus, requiring some moderately complex calculation was a good way to make sure the countersign was being willingly given.

Of course, as the guards in question had pointed out, should something happen, it would be strictly speaking safer if they were to accompany him for the entire journey. However, he had countered that, as useful as the guards' armour was for dealing with danger, it hadn't exactly been built with stealth in mind. And while the enchantments in his own suit were hardly tissue-paper-thin, it would be better to have the regular armour on call should it be needed. Thus, it had been agreed (that is, he had said it and the guards had been ordered to agree) that the best solution was that Blueblood go alone to minimize the chance of being detected and be always ready to teleport the guards to him if that failed.

A very reasonable compromise, he felt. And only partially due to these guards choosing to bring the winter versions of said armour, the heating enchantments of which necessitated trading the appearance of gold for that of silver. Not technically platinum, certainly, but enough that he liked not having to look at them.

So overall, things were working out rather well for him, considering both the circumstances and the alternatives. He was safe, isolated and even almost secure. In fact, he'd feel completely secure if, as clichéd as it felt to acknowledge it, he could just shake the feeling he was being watched.

For the most part, it was hard to quantify – just a tiny, juddering anxiety raising the hairs on his coat and lightly scratching at the edge of his instincts. Admittedly, that kind of uneasiness was unavoidable in a place like this, but he knew that was mostly irrational. What's more, he was easily capable of overcoming such feelings, no matter how much his noises of deep contemplation resembled whimpers.

However, every so often, something would happen that validated the feeling, providing something tangible for his senses to latch onto – a tiny, near-imperceptible sound of claws scritching on wood; the faintest flicker of a shadow darting between treetops at the edge of his vision; a rustle of underbrush just a little out of sync with the wind that could have caused it.

Blueblood sighed as he kept moving, his mind rapidly going over the various predators that had been detailed in the briefing document. Fortunately, it had focused exclusively on more nimble and stealthy inhabitants of the forest, on the logic that for basically all others, you didn't need to be briefed to know to stay as far away as possible.

Timber wolves were the most common stalkers in the forest, but they hunted mostly via smell, and he'd taken an extract to eliminate that entirely (and had all traces of his normal cologne purged from his fur – the things he did for his Auntie), so that was unlikely. Besides, he could see no reason they'd have waited so long to attack him, given how little of a threat he must have looked. There were a fair number of ambush predators in the forest as well, not to mention of few predatory plants, but none of them were known for following their prey. And while cockatrices were known to hide sometimes, the fact that seeing one was enough to be turned to stone tended to mean that stealth wasn't their utmost priority.

In fact, Blueblood was drawing a blank of what kind of creature would follow him for so long without either attacking him or giving themselves away. However, while much of the Everfree had been tentatively documented over the centuries, there was hardly a complete catalogue, so there was no telling what kind of monsters might...

A sudden snap made Blueblood jump, a startled whinny getting halfway out of his throat before he clamped it down. Taking a deep breath, he whirled around, his horn lighting up with a bright corona – hopefully enough to give the creature pause and allow him to summon his aides.#

To his credit, the squirrel picking itself up from having fallen on the twig that had broken did indeed give him a momentary look of wariness before scampering off into the undergrowth.

Blueblood let out a long, quiet breath, allowing the tension in his legs to bleed out for a few seconds. Once his heart settled down, he let out a quiet chuckle. “Silly creature. Making yourself known so loudly...”

“With how unsubtly you trespass...”

With a (utterly noble and masculine) whinny, Blueblood whirled around, his horn lighting up, only for a hoof to whip up and give it a light smack, sending a small wave of lurching discomfort through his head and knocking away any magic for a moment.

“...I'd throw no stones from walls of glass.”

Fortunately, a moment was all that was needed to realize that, whatever else one could say about the zebra looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a quizzical, humourless smirk, she almost certainly wasn't a threat. If only because she had, without him even beginning to notice, gotten close enough behind him she could have combed his Cutie Mark should she want to, much less attack him.

Still, the sudden appearance and rush of questions threw Blueblood off-balance for a moment, his mouth latching onto the most immediate and physical sensation to react to.

“Do you mind, madam?! Striking the horn is a beastly bit of churlishness at the best of times, let alone with a hoof as dirty as one that's been traipsing around this sun-forsaken place must be!”

The zebra close her eyes for a moment with a sigh before shaking her head.

“Apologies – I know that well,
but if I'd let you cast a spell,
then things, I'm sure, would soon get loud
and draw a large and hungry crowd.
Though if you want a spotless face,” she looked at the wild forest around them,
“I'd say you're in an awful place.”

Blueblood huffed. “Well, that's as maybe, but I see no reason to compound the issue. And furthermore, what exactly do you mean by saying I'm travelling 'unsubtly'? I'll have you know I'm using the finest concealing magics money can buy!”

“And yet you walk through bush and briar
with head held high and nose held higher -
a massive hindrance of a gait
for suit and spells to compensate.”

With a truly noble harrumph, Blueblood closed his eyes and turned his head away a little. “A Prince must comport himself with dignity at all times, no matter how unpleasant the circumstances.”

“Then you will make, a beast would feel,
a dignified and regal meal.”

“I can take care of myself, I assure you, Madam,” Blueblood didn't feel the need to specify that part of how he would take care of himself was summoning guards to take care of him. “Now if you'll excuse me...”

“Not curious why I came so close
to interrupt one so morose?”

Blueblood snorted as he closed his eyes, attempting to will away any oncoming headaches. “Just at this moment, Madam, I do not think I could conceivably care less. If I had to guess, I suspect you are going to offer your services as a guide, despite the fact that I know for certain both the location of the castle and the direction to it from here.”

“But how to get there? That's the rub –
the shortest way through bush and shrub.”

“Well, call me a naïve old traditionalist,” Blueblood replied with a roll of his eyes, “but I've always held that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.”

“For distance, that may well apply,
but you're no crow – you cannot fly,
so barriers and rough terrain
can often slow, if not detain.”

At that, Blueblood let out a single, choking laugh. “Well, if that's your concern, you needn't worry – I am in absolutely no rush, I promise you.” He turned and began walking away, only to hear an odd sort of hum from the zebra, prompting him to look over his shoulder.

The look he saw on her face was surprising, despite being one he had seen countless times over his life. It was a look of searching – slightly narrowed eyes with focused pupils, a two- or three-degree tilt of the head and the mouth pursed to the side. It was a look many nobles and diplomats had when they were trying to analyze his behaviour or reactions, trying to figure him out. Normally, it was because they wanted to find some quirk or weakness, or because they thought they already had, but to see it on someone like her – a commoner, and, if he had to guess, a hermit at that? That was a little odd and made him question the reasons for it.

Still, he wasn't able to think on it for long before his bracelet vibrated and lit up again, forcing him to assuage the guards. Just as he finished, he heard the zebra speak again.

“Well, if your trek need not be short,
perhaps your life's of more import.
The straightest path towards your goal
goes right past where the wolves patrol.
So is your 'more-aloof-than-thou'
worth ending up as doggy chow?”

Blueblood let out a groan, both from the continuing conversation and the fact that the one forcing it on him had a point. Looking back down at the bracelet, he considered his options. It wouldn't technically be a problem to bring in the guards the moment he approached the territory in question, but doing so would necessitate either reassuring them (and, if necessary, re-commanding them) that they needn't stay with him or, more likely given his mental energy at the moment, simply allowing them to accompany him. So it was, in all likelihood, a choice between being around one escort or two, which seemed a fairly obvious decision. Still, there was one other issue.

“Well, unfortunately I've nothing which to pay you at the moment, nor anything necessary for a binding notice of debt.”

“I need no pay, in coin or deed,
to lend my aid to one in need.”

Blueblood bristled at that, a curious combination of offence at the claim he had need of her and suspicion at the offer to lend it for free. “So then what would you get out of it, if you'll forgive my bluntness?”

The zebra just gave a small, secret kind of smile. “I have my reasons, but I'll say -
I'm heading that way anyway.” She pointed in a direction about thirty degrees from the path he'd been planning on, just past a few hanging vines.

Blueblood sighed once more, coming to the conclusion that was as straight an answer as he was likely to get for the moment. “Very well, Madam,” he said, lighting his horn to pull the vines out of the way.

However, he wasn't able to focus much magic before a hoof once again struck his horn, knocking the spell out of it and sending another wave of discomfort through him. “What on Equestria do you think-”

“Those vines are Ice Vines – their toxin
transmits through magic and through skin.”

Blueblood blinked in surprise, though he was able to disguise it with the lingering sense of slight nausea from the strike. He'd known that, of course, and had only momentarily forgotten because he was thrown off by the conversation. It's certainly not as if he'd skim-read that section of the briefing document when he saw the worst those plants would give him is a nasty cold.

Still, the thought was soon pushed out by another. “Well, you could have just said something – I wasn't exactly quickening my magic. And you do realize that I could have you arrested for striking royalty?”

The zebra gave him an ever-so-slightly smug smirk. “Then that's a thing for you, not me,
to take up with my embassy.”

There was a long pause as Blueblood took that in. He hadn't expected her to think of it, let alone bring it up to his face, but she was right, of course – for a representative of the government as high as him, arresting a citizen of a foreign power, even one with dual Equestrian citizenship, was something of a headache. As such, it generally wasn't worth it for minor grievances like this.

Besides, even if he did manage to prosecute and convict her, there was a good chance that Auntie Celestia would overturn it in one of her YHIC-fits (Blueblood sometimes questioned whether he really needed to abbreviate 'You Had It Coming' like that but, when he thought of those moments his Auntie would claim his inconvenience was some sort of consequence of his actions, the sound 'Yick' felt just too appropriate.)

Still, he felt it best to say something. “Well, I am prepared to overlook these last two incidents, provided you do not intend to continue with such barbarity.”

“Depends – you might just force the crime
if I'm called 'Madam' one more time.
If not, we both may rest at ease.
My name's Zecora – use it, please.”

“Oh, very well, Miss Zecora. Lead on, if you please,” he indicated the path she'd pointed to.

Zecora stepped forward, pulling a hook out of her saddlebags and gently moving the vines out of the way. However, once there was enough of a gap they could both easily slip through, she didn't move.

“There's not that much to guide you through.
I must insist, then – after you!”

There was a moment's silence before Blueblood gave a princely, not at all petulant shrug and started walking, as arguing the point seemed less of a priority than ending that conversation. Not that he had much hope of a quiet journey, but he was happy with a few moments of silence.