"Help! Help m—"

The pull-vines must have gotten to her, poor thing. I can see her struggling to keep her head above the swamp surface, even through the pre-dawn gloom of my shack. She's a unicorn, and sounds young. Heavier things weigh on my mind for the moment, however. My gaze returns within.

"Four feathers on the floor, my pet," I mutter, counting them again. "It is almost time. Now hide yourself, I must go to this pony."

The night gives my bones such a chill, and damp of the bog but makes it worse. My cloak is old, so rough and worn, but suffices to keep the worst out. Old nags like me wind up in the oddest places when ponies forget they love us.

I walk upon the waters with an old-remembered spell; it drains me, but time is off the essence. Plus, dramatics are everything at this stage.

I draw my dagger from my cloak and raise it in my magic—look at her eyes, the poor dear, she fears I might kill her!—and slash at the vines. One, two, three! and they disappear beneath the waters, to join the morass.

"They like the taste of magic," I say as easily as hello. "That's why they attack pretty young unicorns lost in the swamp."

She shakes herself and gazes up at me. "I-I'm not lost!"

Oh, a fighter! Making up for lack of cleverness with determination. I appreciate that.

"Then, my dear, feel free to lead us back to my hut. That is, if you had no other destination in mind."

"How..."

Speechless. This is why I play with dramatics.

"How did I know you came to see me?" Because few ponies venture into the Everfree and fewer still, to the bog. Because Ghastly Gorge is to the south, and she was headed east, so I can only conclude I was her destination.

I wink. "I'm a wise old mare, and we know these things."

Yes, it will be a simple matter to awe this one. She's trundling through the water rather than using my magic walkway. I admire determination, but there are limits.

"Are you certain you don't wish to ride upon my back? My legs are the longer."

"I'm okay. It's not like I'm gonna get any wetter than I already am."

Ah, universal irony: at that instant, she plunges into the swamp up to her horn. I shouldn't help, it might bruise her ego, but I lift her atop my back regardless and make for home. It wouldn't do for my guests to catch cold before reaching it, after all. Up close, her coat is pale lavender, the color of the word 'velvet', and though her mane is lanky from the swamp water, the thick purple and yellow stripes are quite fetching. Though I suspect she puts little stock in her appearance.

"Here we are. Down you go, my dear. I'll make you some tea," I add as she shivers.

"Th-thank you."

She sits, and I catch my breath. Though I'd like to think I can still carry a full-grown stallion, much less a wisp of a unicorn mare, that spell did take something from me. I need but a moment to gather myself, and then I can set about making tea inside my shack. I've lived here long enough, I hardly need to see to prepare it.

My attention is drawn once again to the floor. Five feathers, dull red in the not-light. The time is nearly here.

"W-what time?"

"Oh goodness, did I say that aloud?" I chuckle and try not to notice how off-kilter it sounds. "I've been too long without the company of other ponies, I'm afraid. Forgive an old mare her foibles."

"It's all right." She keeps her eyes on the bent wood of my porch, but her smile is so gentle and calm, like there's some internal joke that gives her strength and happiness. "What should I call you?"

I wave my hoof. "I think they're calling me the 'Bog Witch' these days. It doesn't matter. I've had more names than I can count. The real question, my dear, is what I should call you."

She swallows; she wasn't looking forward to this question. How intriguing.

"My name's Starlight. I'm hoping you can help me." She shifts in her chair; I can't blame her, it's both rough and rotting, hardly comfortable despite being the best the swamp has to offer.

The kettle whistles, and I bring the whole service out to us. "I apologize for the lack of sandwiches. You've caught me in sparse times, I'm afraid."

She takes her cup and begins drinking without waiting for the offer of sugar. The heat of the water doesn't bother her, it seems. A mare after my own tastes.

"Now, tell me what sort of help you seek, Starlight, who likes her tea hot and straight."

She blushes, and that light smile returns. "I was hoping you could give me some... direction, I guess? I'm trying to find my way in life, and, well, it's really, really hard."

"Life can be hard indeed." I sip my tea, but keep my eyes on her. "What makes your life hard?"

"My mother." Her eyes squeeze shut. "Ever since I was a foal, I've been in her shadow. If anyone noticed me, it's because I'm her daughter. Nopony cares about Starlight." A sigh heaves through her. "And it's not just her, either! My dad was a big-shot in the Royal Guard, until he..." She pauses just a little too long.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I say, and she shakes her head. Not a new wound, then.

"It's okay. He was always in her shadow, too. I'm not sure if it bothered him. We never talked about it." She rubs her shoulder. "Then there's my aunts. They've always told me stories about adventures and stuff, all the amazing things they did when they were my age. My uncle, too, but he's asleep now."

The way she phrases that sentence sparks something in my memory. "Just who is this mother of yours, who casts so long and deep a shadow over her family?"

The muscles in her jaw tense, and her head dips toward the floor. "Princess Twilight Sparkle."

"The pieces fall into place." I set my teacup down, lest it drop from my magic. "That is a name I have not heard spoken in quite some time, young Starlight Sparkle."

"Please, just Starlight."

"My poor dear." I reach over and lift her head. "How like Equestria's Princess to name a pony after herself, yet never consider what grief such a similarity might cause. I am sorry to hear about Spike. You will likely not speak with him again in your lifetime."

"I know." She avoids my gaze for a moment. "He's actually the one who got it in my head that I should come here to see you. Do you..." Her eyes scan over my face. "Do you know my mother?"

"I did, once." I release her chin and lean back in my chair. "A long time ago, I might have even called her a friend."

Starlight gives me a sidelong glance. "She didn't banish you here, did she?"

"It is a long story," I say, waving my hoof. "Whether her fault, or mine, or both, or neither, is inconsequential. I have forgiven us." I take another sip of tea. "But you did not come here to listen to an old woman natter on about her past. Tell me, how do you expect somepony like me to help you with this problem?"

"I-I was hoping you'd know..." She taps her hooves together and takes the moment I give her. "No, actually I was hoping—well, this is gonna sound stupid—I was hoping you could give me a quest."

"A quest?"

"You know, like my mom and aunts used to go on." Much to my surprise, she perks, waving her hooves to describe scenes from her imagination. "Fighting dragons, getting lost in hedge mazes, saving entire towns from evil ponies, that kind of thing! I need to go out and have an adventure of my own, one that'll show everyone just what kind of pony I am!"

For a moment, she is enraptured. I check inside the door once again; still only five feathers.

"Come with me," I say, and rise. I wade two paces into the swamp, until I can reach a cypress knee emerging from the water. Placing my hoof upon it, I mutter an incantation that sounds much better spoken by the zebra shaman who taught me it. The knee glows green, light spreading like fire across dry leaves down every tree root connected to that one, until the whole swamp is alight with a web of green.

"Follow me," I say, not bothering to confirm if she is, "and stay to the lighted areas. It will make the trip smoother."

We walk in silence, save for the calls of early morning creatures as they wake from slumber. Good filly, she knows better than to ask where a wise mare is going in her own domain. Not that this domain was ever truly mine, but I have long since stopped recalling those far-flung days in favor of the moment. It takes a good fifteen minutes before we find what I am looking for.

"Watch your step," I say, as we move onto a small hillock poking out of the bog. "The ground here is solid, but wet, and can shift underhoof if you aren't careful."

I gaze up into the canopy, stretching into darkness above us. The sky is not something I see much of, and the glow of my spell does not reach far above our knees.

"Tell me what you see, Starlight."

She starts, but takes time to look around before answering. She's inherited the most important part of her mother's smarts, then.

"Well, I'm going to assume you brought us out here to see the tree. So..." Her tongue sticks out the side of her mouth. "Uh, well, it's a big tree. I dunno what kind. Bet mom would know," she adds under her breath.

"It is a cypress. Do you see anything else?"

"Swamp?" She shrugs. "I'll bet you're a lot more observant than me."

"Look down, my dear."

She lifts a hoof, examining at the spot it was in. "Huh. There's little shoots and stuff growing in the dirt."

I nod. "Those are the cypress's offspring. This tree has stood here for centuries, and is one of the largest in the swamp. Now, what can you tell me about the relationship between the two?"

Starlight again takes time to answer, studying the ground, the tree, and finally looking up. Her eyes shift toward me.

"You're gonna tell me it's something like me and my mom, right? Because they're..." She grins. They're living under the big tree's shadow."

"Very good." I return her smile. "Now look around you. Do you see many trees growing beneath this one?"

"No." She squints into the distance. "Not many big ones, anyway. It's like they're all giving it space. There's just these little guys down here."

"Right again. And these 'little guys', as you put it, may not survive very long, with their parent blocking out precious sunlight during most of the day."

She frowns, and I continue.

"The shadow you live beneath is perhaps the longest in Equestria. But think about this: once upon a time, hundreds and hundreds of years ago, that tree before us lived under its parent, and now that parent tree is gone, forgotten. You can't even tell where it might have stood."

There is a pause, and she turns to me, face broad with seriousness.

"Are you telling me I need to kill my mother?"

The laughter I am holding back doubtless shows on my face. "I hope that isn't the lesson you'll take away from this. No, dear Starlight, my point is that this tree was once a 'little guy', but through strength, perseverance, and a little luck, it became the one casting the shadow. To live a life like yours will require struggle; you will only achieve what you desire if you are willing to put in the work."

"I am willing, though!" She hops, the soft earth squishing when she lands. "I can do so many things! I just need to find somepony who believes in me and can help make my dreams real!"

I feel a smile tug at the corner of my lips. "I find it odd, then, that you seek to distinguish yourself by doing precisely what your mother did."

I give her a few moments to compose herself.

"The look on your face tells me you haven't quite thought your plan through." I do my best not to smile; she's likely embarrassed enough as is. "Consider this as well: did your mother's achievements come through her hard work alone?"

"Well, no, she had my aunts," she replies automatically.

"Yet here you are, in the middle of the Everfree Forest, all by yourself."

Her head sinks toward the quagmire, poor dear. "I don't really have any friends," she mumbles. "Everypony either just wants to get close to my mom, or gets intimidated when they find out I'm related to her."

I move to stand beside her and lift her chin once more. "If it is a quest you desire, Starlight, then here it is: make some friends. You are already out in the world. It would be a small thing for you to continue on to Dodge Junction or hop a train to Las Pegasus, somewhere farther away from your mother's shadow, where you can be yourself without anypony the wiser."

Tears cloud her eyes, and her lower lip trembles. "But w-w... what if nopony likes me?"

"Somepony will. I guarantee it. You just may have to work hard to find that pony." I use one of those radiant smiles I once was so fond of. "Are you willing to put in the work, Starlight?"

She sniffs, wipes her eyes, and stands a little straighter. "I am. I'll do it. I'll go out and find some friends, and then maybe we'll have some adventures, or maybe we won't, who knows? But if they're really friends, then... then they'll like me for being me, right?" Her smile couldn't be wider.

"Now you're getting the idea."

"Thank you!" She clasps me tightly, and something in my heart aches.

Wrapping a leg around her, I am reminded of a filly who once looked up to me the way, I thought, that a daughter looks at her mother. In that case, it was the daughter who outshone the mother, though she was never any mother at all. And then the mother who was no mother was cast aside, forgotten.

I hold her tighter. I feel light and I need to compose myself, lest I appear less like a wise old mare than simply an old fool.

"Are you okay?" Starlight whispers.

"I'm sorry. You just reminded me of somepony I was close to, long ago."

We separate, and she looks up at me, smiling. "I won't forget you. I promise, when I've found some friends, I'll come back here and tell you all the stories of our adventures together. Even if they don't involve saving the world." She giggles, and I relax.

"I would not wish such a burden to fall on you. But if it does, know that I have every faith in you. After all, you made it to my swamp all by yourself."

She hugs me again and splashes into the swamp. "Really, though, I won't forget you."

Some of that lightness dissipates. "Consider going to your mother for help, should you need it. She was known as the Princess of Friendship once upon a time, after all. She might be able to give you some pointers."

Starlight frowns, but it is ephemeral. "I guess I could, but I'd rather do this on my own."

"Perhaps that is for the best." I nod. "If you do go to her, it might be best if you didn't mention the mare in the swamp. I'm not sure she's forgiven me as I have her."

She nods, dashing toward the big cypress and the path beyond. Stopping, she turns and shouts "And thank you for the tea!" before dashing off once more.

My smile remains until she is out of sight. Like drawing the air from a lantern, it is extinguished with her absence. The walk back to my home is quiet.

There are six feathers on the floor when I return. It is time.

"Come along, Philomena," I say, extending my hoof for my pet to perch on.

I will take her to a flat rock not far from our home, where she can burn freely without setting our house aflame and without her ashes being lost to the waters of the swamp. It was a lonely year in which we learned that lesson.

As my pet burns herself alive, to be rekindled once more, I will remove my cloak, though the damp will aggravate the ache in my bones. I will spread my wings, though they creak and strain with the years. And, as there are appearances that must be kept up, I will raise the sun.