June.
‘From its core, Völsung.’
“You going to say what’s on your mind, or just stand there and gawk?”
Strawberry frowned, leveling a look at Night Glider. “I don’t gawk, I glare.”
“Same difference.” Night Glider shuffled through some papers, glancing down at the barn floor before going back to her notes. “Spill it.”
“How much do you know?”
Night Glider smiled. “We keep tabs on lots of stuff. So when a pegasus like you magically shows up and we can’t find any records, it raises some alarms.”
“Why wait until now to visit?”
“Never had a reason to.” Night glanced at her. “Besides we figured you wouldn’t exactly be… receptive to meeting us.”
Strawberry laughed. “You got one thing right. Let’s hope you’re right on this, too.”
Night Glider glanced at her watch. “She’ll be here soon.”
“How are you so sure?”
“And I thought I was the one who’d be asking questions.”
The two paused as a door creaked open behind them.
Night Glider winked at Strawberry, who scoffed at her, and the two turned to face a very surprised Cheerilee. “Hi! Miss Cheerilee, right?”
Cheerilee took a half-step backwards.
“Hey, it’s alright,” Night said as she flashed her badge. “We just wanted to ask some questions. This is Strawberry Sunrise.”
“I… Remember you,” Cheerilee said. “From the market.”
“I’m still buying if you’re selling!”
Cheerilee blinked.
“Don’t mind her.” Night flashed a comforting smile. “Miss Cheerilee, we’re here as friends. You and I actually have a mutual friend. Sugar Belle. I was in the village with her.”
Something about that rang a bell. Cheerilee remembered that Sugar would talk about her old “village idiot” friends, and a something-Glider being one of them. She relaxed a little bit, but tried to steel her gaze. “Why are you here?”
“We’re just trying to figure out what happened,” Night Glider said, holding up her hooves. “I know a lot of ponies have said that, but nobody’s any closer to answer. And I think Applejack deserves better than that. Can you tell me more about these berries you mentioned?”
“I…” Cheerilee frowned, looking cornered. “I don’t know where they’re from. Applejack gave them to me.” She took out her brown paper bag and stared at it.
“May I?”
She shrugged and let Night Glider take them to examine. “Huh. Interesting. And she never told you where she got them from?”
Cheerilee shook her head.
“Figures, if I had my hooves on something like that I wouldn’t say either,” Strawberry remarked.
“And do they have any magical effects?” Night Glider asked.
“They… They feel warm when I eat them.” There was a strange quiet that filled the air when she spoke. “It’s like… They numb the pain. So I don’t feel anything anymore. They help me get by… Well, they used to.”
Night Glider raised an eyebrow. “Not anymore?”
“The more I eat the less effective it feels they are,” whispered Cheerilee.
Night Glider took all this in and scribbled a note in her notebook. “Hm… I see.”
“You’re a schoolteacher, aren’t you?” Strawberry leaned in. “What do you know about the Myth of the Hidden Garden?”
Cheerilee stared at her. “Uh. It’s the myth that covers how earth ponies got their magic?”
“Hah! A myth.”
Night Glider cleared her throat. “We… Have reason to believe that the myth may be real. The forest mentioned in these stories may actually be Everfree, which means the Garden in question may be somewhere within. Those berries are good evidence of that theory.”
Cheerilee took this in with a stoic expression.
“Did Applejack give you anything else that may have been from there?”
“No,” Cheerilee said quickly, an image of the sapling in her backyard flashing through her mind.
Night Glider nodded.
“I say we try and find where this arrow leads,” Strawberry said. “Instead of just standing around and passing notes.”
“I tried,” Cheerilee insisted. “But I couldn’t find anywhere that it might have been pointing to.”
Strawberry rolled her eyes. “That’s because you don’t know what you’re looking for.”
“And you do?” snapped Cheerilee.
Strawberry just grinned. “Watch me.” With that, she turned and headed out of the barn, leaving Cheerilee and Night Glider to follow.
Night Glider was quiet for most of the walk, though she would often cast glances in Cheerilee’s direction. Strawberry led the way, picking her way expertly through the brush without missing a beat in her sarcastic commentary.
The path they walked was one that Cheerilee had traveled several times in her wanderings. The brush was thick and rich with life, with a few animals lurking just out of sight and watching as they passed through.
“You didn’t seem too surprised by any of this,” Strawberry said without looking back.
“I guess I just suspected that some of it had to be real,” Cheerilee muttered.
Night Glider nodded. “Did she leave behind any notes? Documents?”
“Um, yes. A journal. It’s how Apple Bloom made that… thing.” Cheerilee wasn’t sure how much exactly she should be sharing, but she got the feeling that Night Glider would find out what she wanted to know one way or another. “There’s a lot in there, and I can barely understand most of it myself.”
“Still, I figured she’d know better than to bring anything out of the garden. You’re lucky those berries haven’t killed you yet,” Strawberry piped.
That thought made her stomach churn.
“The stories all differ, but some of them have some weird stuff. I wouldn’t touch anything in there with a ten foot pole!”
“How do you know so much about this?” Cheerilee asked.
Strawberry came to a halt. “Here.”
Night Glider and Cheerilee looked around. They had paused by a particularly thick section of brush near a hill. “Are you sure?”
Strawberry said nothing and began pushing her way through the brush. Cheerilee sighed and followed, wincing as she was pricked by thorny twigs and branches. As she came closer the hidden cave gradually began to reveal itself. To its right was a large boulder, recently dislodged judging by the tracks left in the dirt.
“Whatever that sigil points at, it’s down there. I’d bet my left wing on that,” Strawberry said.
Night Glider squinted into the darkness. “I’d say that’s a safe bet.” She flicked her tail and began proceeding down the path.
“After you,” Strawberry insisted, giving Cheerilee a light tap on the back with their wing.
Cheerilee sighed, feeling her heart beat a little bit faster as she began following Night Glider into the cave. The group was soon swallowed by darkness as the cave went deeper and deeper. Water dripped from some unseen pocket, the sound of it falling onto the rock below echoing around them. Their hoofsteps were quiet and muffled, and the tunnels grew narrower and narrower as they descended.
But before long, the hallway exploded into a massive open room: one with a strange shimmering lake in the middle. Stalactites hung from the ceiling and rocks of various sizes were scattered around the sides. The water shook gently, as if rocked by some unseen force, and Cheerilee couldn’t help but wonder if the water seemed a bit too reflective.
“Now this is a lead,” Night Glider mused. “Applejack must have found this before us.”
“Maybe her reflection killed her,” Strawberry laughed.
Cheerilee stared at Strawberry blankly as Night Glider knelt by the lake’s surface. The mare winked in her direction before leaning on a medium-sized boulder. The weight in her stomach worsened as a stray thought crossed her mind.
“Why don’t you hop in? Maybe you can find some berries in there,” Strawberry called to Night Glider.
“Wouldn’t they just be wet?”
“Can’t taste much worse than an apple does.”
Cheerilee felt her gut twist, but she bit her tongue and remained quiet, even if her haunches tensed and her jaw began to clench.
She must have killed Applejack, Cheerilee thought. And what if I’m next?
Mighty Helm Mythology, Prose Edda. The Story of Sigurth, page 174.
When Crescere visited the tribe again, he was troubled to find that the land was barren and empty. The foals of the village gathered around him, tugging at his cape and begging for food. Worried, he summoned Gokstad to a counsel to ask what was wrong.
“Our warriors struggle to hunt during the cold,” Gokstad said grimly. “When the animals hide there is little we can do to survive.”
“I shan't hear of it,” Crescere declared. “Gather your clerics and your shamans. I will bestow upon your tribe an arcane gift, so you need not depend on the creatures around you to survive.”
Though wary, Gokstad obeyed, and soon all of the village had gathered by his side.
“Behold,” Crescere declared as he channeled his power, coaxing a root from the earth. The root twisted and grew rapidly, until it first became a sapling, then a tree bearing fruits in a matter of seconds. The village recoiled in surprise and horror before immediately bowing down in respect. “With this gift, you may use what the earth provides. Take it, and use it well.”
Gokstad nodded, and a warm glow began to fill the village. Crescere left satisfied, as the ponies of the village quickly began to learn and grow.
It was three winters later when he returned. Gokstad greeted him at the gates, a young foal by his side. “Greetings, Crescere.”
“You’ve taken a son, I see! With whom have you married?”
“None,” Gokstad replied. “I coaxed this child from the core of an apple. A miraculous task, from the gift you have given us. His name is Sigurth.”
Crescere was overcome by a fury. “You are casting with things you do not understand! I did not grant you this gift to make such monstrosities!”
“I apologize deeply,” Gokstad cried.
“Your apology means nothing. Your tribe must now suffer the consequences of your ignorance. You may no longer grow what you please, but rather you will be trapped by the land in which you live.”
Gokstad drew his sword in a fury. “You cannot take back what you have already given us!” he swore, as young Sigurth looked on.
“Then so be it,” replied Crescere as he drew his own.
Crescere left the village later that night, leaving a broken tribe behind and Sigurth without a father.
End Second Division.