Everclear
In his youth, Everclear had encountered a fairy deep somewhere in the forests around the Meadow. It had been such a random event, entirely unexpected and yet wholly life-changing. She had appeared to him as a small foal, shimmering with silver-white light and eyes of the faintest emerald green, their color nearly lost amid the pale starlight gleam of her face. In the shadows of the tall pines, she had looked almost ghostly as she’d laid there at the base of a hemlock tree, quite unassuming except for the fact that she was blatantly alone.At first, the young stallion had thought her abandoned or perhaps tucked away by a mare who’d gone off on some lone venture. Distracted by his own personal crisis – a furtive search for his own identity – he had hardly given the foal-fairy a second thought. He had felt lost himself, cast away from the Amazonian herd because, back then, they had not allowed males within their Jungle, not even the son of their very own Lady to the Queen.
But when he’d looked back and made a more critical observation of the nearly glowing little foal, folded neatly there in a bed of downed conifer needles, he had felt some strange sort of kinship.
Had they both been rejected? Was she a waif like himself?
When he had approached her, asked her quietly why she’d been left there and if she needed help, she had raised her brilliant nose to his. They’d exchanged a soft breath, hers as aromatic as jasmine flowers yet somehow tangy like citrus, and Everclear had felt the worries fade from his mind. You will find yourself, a vibrant, heavenly sort of voice whispered with assurance into his mind. In time.
As simply as that, he had been immortalized. There had been little more than a vague tingle across his body like the slight passing of a chilly wind to signal the transference of magic. The foal had then begun to fade before his eyes, lending more credence to her phantasmal presence, and Everclear had watched, stunned, as she faded away.
- -
In all his long years since, the Mountain has never truly appealed to him.
He has certainly found himself, he believes. It had not been a short journey at all, filled with many turns and new developments, but it seems that his path has straightened now. He had found purpose when Spyglass had invited him to Heaven’s Gates so long ago, when she had laid the crown (at the time metaphorical) upon his head and he had devoted himself to leading the kingdom to greatness.
He had found his home.
And he has found it again, returning to the regenerated Gates and finding that he had also felt almost reborn somehow. He has once again devoted himself to the kingdom, no matter its state. He has promised to defend it and make it whole again, if he can.
His mild habit of wandering, however, has never left him.
Today he happens upon a stretch of the forest around the base of the Mountain that very much resembles the place where he had found the fairy-foal before. The sense of deja vu is enough to bring him to a stop, dark feet planting solidly in the fallen pine needles covering the ground. He lifts his head, ears forward and nostrils flared as he studies the area – tall, silvery trunks reaching upward, dark conifer branches linking together to nearly blot out the clear sky above, and a dense carpet of orange-brown needles to muffle any notable sounds.
And, rather like before, a distinct glow of silvery light lingers around the base of a tall, narrow hemlock whose branches reach out in a vast embrace. Everclear tosses his head, shakes his mane, and steps slowly forward. His confusion increases when he sees her again: she is curled there just like before, long legs tucked carefully close to her body and her pale green eyes fixed steadfastly upon him.
He stops again.
“You’re still here,” he observes plainly, though the disbelief is evident upon his face and in the twitch of his ears.
“So are you,” she speaks aloud this time with a similar tone of simple deduction.
For a moment, they simply study one another as Everclear puzzles over the… coincidence? Or is it fate? Destiny? Something else?
“You are seeking something again,” the fairy states, undoubtedly having read his thoughts. Everclear blinks, surprised by the claim as he does not feel that he is outright in search of anything.
But then it occurs to him: “Safety.” The word falls from his lips as if unbidden, but the truth in it is resolute. “Peace of mind for my home.”
“There is no threat to the place you call home.” The fairy’s words closely follow his, a dismissal of his concern. She stands carefully, stretching her spindly legs and effortlessly lifting her small body from the ground. No dirt lingers upon her body, none of the pine needles cling to her fur – she remains pure, untouched. “Why would you desire something that is unnecessary?”
He is certain she already knows the answer, but he speaks anyway. “Because I know how quickly the world can change. I have seen it far too often in my life and maybe, just this once, I can try to do something to prevent any harm coming to The Gates.”
The fairy considers him for another quiet moment, standing eerily still before him. She does not even appear to breathe.
“You know that such a gift cannot be given freely,” she advises him, her voice as clear as crystal bells and yet firm like a mother educating a child. Everclear can only nod.
“I would do anything within my power to ensure the safety of my home.” His determination, while not overconfident or presumptuous, is obvious. The fairy smiles and finally moves again, stepping slightly closer.
“It would take a great sum of magic to grant your wish. Would you sacrifice your own immortality?”
“I would.”
“It will kill you.” The fairy’s answer is resolute. There is a flicker of fear in the stallion’s brown eyes that makes her smile grow into something both sinister and satisfied. It is an obvious reality – he has lived so long that the sudden absence of magic in his blood would surely cause his body to fail. “Do you not fear death?”
“I do,” he admits after a pause to consider his answer. He has nearly died once before and he can remember how frightened he had been, how desperately he had wanted to remain and to keep fighting. “If it means that the kingdom I love and those within it will be kept safe, I will happily accept death.” Without an alternate method of demonstrating his devotion, the remittance of his immortality seems unavoidable as the only viable option.
“You would be banished beyond even the afterlife,” the fairy goes on, having given little indication that she has accepted his pledge. “You would not know light or sound, you would not know touch. You would never know whether your wish had even come true.”
In a single blink, Everclear’s vision goes black. His body feels weightless. He can hear nothing at all – not the wind or the birds or even the true voice of the fairy. When she speaks again, it is the quietest whisper in the depths of his mind.
Your soul would wander and you would know nothing at all. You would be alone and obsolete.
He cannot formulate true words or thoughts to respond. He remains silent, but the steadiness in his heart answers for him: so be it.
Just as abruptly as his vision had gone, it is returned. This time, it is consumed by blinding red light. The world is ablaze and he is faced with a gigantic, hideous creature. Its jaw hangs loose and wide, venom coating its spiked teeth; liquid flame streams from its eyes and its massive barbed horns twist and tear at its own flesh as it tosses its head. Its clawed paws reach out as if to strike him as it beats its massive leathery wings against the air.
At first, Everclear stumbles as the sight overwhelms and surprises him. The fairy’s voice booms now, breaking clearly above the creature’s anguished snarling.
“Would you fight for your desire?”
Having caught himself by now, Everclear stands to face the monster and stares up at it, muscles tensed and ready to react as necessary.
“If it is required of me, I will.”
Truthfully, and he’s sure she can read this in his heart, he would rather avoid fighting. Just as he had tried to avoid battle before, when the Chamber and the Amazons had sought to wrest Heaven from his and Spyglass’s control, he would seek a more peaceable option. But his words do not belie his devotion. If he must fight, he will.
For a few moments more, the beast howls and spits at him, threatening him with its venom and its fire, but he does not falter. Instead, he steps forward as if to confront it, unflinching as it reaches out for him once more, but its blow never lands.
The world returns to normal again just before its giant claws would have snagged and thrown him to the ground. He finds himself standing before the fairy again, having drawn closer to her instead of to the monster she had impressed upon his mind. Her smile has softened as she tilts her head.
“You have come a long way since we first met,” she tells him in her airy voice. “I am glad to see you have discovered such a pure heart in all that time.”
Everclear smiles a little, bowing his head slightly. The fairy raises her own small head, touching his brow with her muzzle as he answers humbly. “That is thanks to your gift–”
When he opens his eyes again, she has vanished. A single parting statement whispers into his mind, though: I cannot grant your wish, but I will give you something that proves your devotion to the kingdom you love.
Unseen to him, a gentle gold-white light forms into a ring around his head.
E V E R C L E A R