Ghosts

by Ponydora Prancypants

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Luna, Original Character, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3577

On a night where spirits fill the skies, a fateful meeting brings two worlds together for the very first time.

The khirala have avoided the surface for a thousand generations, and they know nothing of the horrors faced by those who must try to survive the war. In fact, they do not even know that word, and they believe they are the only ponies in the world. On a night when the sky teems with ghosts, a young pony from the gateway to eternity will meet an eternal pony, and their lives will change forever.

Written for the EQD 2013 Batpony Fiction Challenge
Cover art by mindlesshead

Published 2013-11-01 06:00:03 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-01 06:00:03 UTC

Dark Wings

Ghosts

by Ponydora Prancypants

Lately, the wisps were swarming through the Great Hollow in numbers that none living could recall witnessing before. They were as intangible as smoke, and could not be interrupted or distracted from their mindless journey, so the khirala largely ignored them. The wisps glided silently through the vast cavern that was the khirala's domain, past the delicate stalactite city their forebears had painstakingly built over centuries, and past the shores of an underground sea as still as glass in the enfolding darkness.

The khirala could see their sunless city perfectly well, and the crystal clarity of the water, and they could see the wisps too, though no light from the heavens penetrated into the deeps of the Great Hollow. This was so because the khirala were creatures of magic, as they well knew. Like the basilisk with its stony stare, or the eternal phoenix, magic ran in the veins of every khirala, and its gift to their kind was the true sight—the ability to perceive the world as it was, not as it was obscured and falsely colored by light or murky perception. The true sight had enabled the khirala to build a civilization cut off from the sun, and safe from the dangers of the surface world.

This was not to suggest that the Great Hollow was free from all danger. The claw crawlers and siphon maws owned the cave floor far beneath the khirala’s ancient city, and they seemed ever eager to claim the husk of any khirala whose wings failed them. The khirala were still convinced it was far better to be under the surface than above it, where the scorching sun appeared so frequently, and the predators were quick and clever and often winged.

The hungry creatures of the surface never followed the khirala into the Great Hollow. Evidently they did not care for the wisps, though, unlike the khirala, it appeared they did not see them. The gatherers would watch from their hiding places as slavering beasts sniffed and whimpered and turned in circles, never looking directly at the misty figures gliding among them. Some of the thinkers suspected that it was the bitter chill left in the wake of the wisps’ passage that frightened the creatures, but in any event, the predators kept clear of the Great Hollow, for that was where all the world’s wisps went in time.

Those who ventured to the surface in search of food would see the wisps gathered above in great swirling clouds, shapeless and shifting, with a streaming tendril funneling them gradually into the Great Hollow, to complete their passage through the khirala’s lands and across the sea to the Terminus.

No khirala knew what the Terminus was, precisely, but they knew it existed, as it must, for all caverns end somewhere, even one so vast as the Great Hollow. The mystery of the Terminus was not born of a lack of curiosity: for countless generations, the bravest young fliers would follow the wisps deeper into the black emptiness, as far as they dared, but their courage would inevitably fail, and they would return to the safety of the suspended city. Only those who meant to leave forever, who left their husks behind in order to journey with the wisps, could reach the Terminus, and they never returned.

If the khirala could have stayed underground, snug in their hanging city and protected by the unease the wisps evoked in surface dwellers, they might have done so. As it happened, their biology prevented it. Their food would not grow in the dark.

The khirala kept time not in measured days or hours, but in periods announced by the guild of schedulekeepers. Gathering was the period for those young fliers who had the courage and strength to visit the surface world, to venture forth and return with food for all the others. More than a thousand bold youths would take flight for each Gathering, and they worked together in small teams to find and collect the only food the khirala’s delicate inner workings, refined over ten thousand generations, could tolerate.

Gleaner, Whisper, Freetail, and Eyeshine had worked as a team for ten Gatherings, though none had reached the second age of maturity and earned the privilege of seeking out a mate, and they were all eager to prove themselves. The magic in their golden eyes guided them through the crowds of their winged fellows, around the streaming columns of the wisps, up to where the first faint illumination touched the cave walls, and eventually to the surface above.

Midnight on the night of a new moon would have provided no hindrance to the gatherers' vision, but the particular night of their eleventh sortie into the world above greeted the foursome with a fat glowing crescent suspended in a glimmering starscape. The first thing that Eyeshine noticed was that the icy air was thick with wisps, vastly more than in the Great Hollow.

“There are so many,” she whispered, marveling from her position at the lip of the Great Hollow’s vast mouth. “I've never seen the like of it.”

“If they pass through the Hollow in numbers like this, even we may be forced to leave,” Freetail observed. “They are fine traveling through the passage, but mother would not want them in our chambers, freezing us to our bones.”

“I wonder if something happening in the wide world is causing their increase,” Gleaner said.

“We will never know,” Whisper spoke firmly. “The land of light is not our world.”

“You are right, brother, of course,” Gleaner replied. “We should get to work.”

The gatherers took wing, and flew in close formation out into the forest surrounding the mouth of the Great Hollow, staying just above the treetops to avoid the sticky traps of the ubiquitous net spiders, but low enough to blend in against the dark canopy. Wary eyes kept a lookout for the owlrocs that flew just as silently as the khirala, but faster, but always the greater part of their thoughts remained focused on the milky skin and soft flesh of that which they sought, and how it glowed when seen with the true sight. These four, and a thousand more like them, dispersed in every direction, for their food appeared sporadically, and was never found in the same place after a Gathering.

Eventually, they found what they were looking for. Leathery wings beat soundlessly, then were drawn close as dark shapes descended from the black. Needle-sharp fangs plunged through skin, and the khirala fed. The gatherers needed to build up their strength if they were going to carry back a sufficient quantity of the succulent glowmelons. They soon finished taking in sustenance, and each then took as many melons as could be managed, stuffing them into bags of strong crawler-silk mesh, and they began the flight home.

This was the most dangerous time for the gatherers. The extra weight slowed them down and reduced their maneuverability, and the pale melons they carried were not entirely concealed by the mesh bags. On that night, Whisper was the first to spot a dark shape behind them, attempting to conceal itself against the canopy just as the khirala did.

“Owlroc,” he said, pronouncing the name as a curse.

“We need to break formation,” Freetail said, her voice just rising above the rush of the night wind. “The one it chases can drop their melons and lead it away.” She had not needed to say anything, for they all had learned their lessons well.

“On three,” Gleaner said, and counted down. The khirala separated like a fan. The great shadowy wings followed Eyeshine.

She was a fast flier, even among the other gatherers, and she knew that she had bested an owlroc once before, by darting down into a narrow space between the trees where the huge bird could not follow. Eyeshine was more excited than terrified at the prospect of the chase. She dropped her glowmelons and beat her wings as hard as she could. Still, the dark wings steadily drew closer. This must have been the fastest owlroc in the forest.

In the distance, closer to the Great Hollow, Eyeshine could see the undulating clouds of wisps making their slow revolution around the entrance. Farther out, here are there, individual wisps were slowly floating toward the main agglomeration. In fact, wisps were practically everywhere around Eyeshine, and she knew the Owlroc could not see them. If she could lure her pursuer into a group of them, presumably whatever it was that struck fear in the surface-dwelling beasts would cause the bird to abandon its quarry.

Eyeshine turned sharply toward the closest group of wisps, a misty trio gliding inexorably toward Eyeshine's home. She raced through a narrow gap between them, feeling their chill even as she felt confident that the much larger owlroc could not replicate the feat. She gasped, the sound audible over the wind, when the great dark wings banked sharply and flew around the wisps.

None but the khirala could see them, she knew, so what evil spellcraft had allowed the owlroc to do it? Eyeshine had only a second to ponder before the wings were upon her. Eyeshine glanced back over her shoulder, and saw her pursuer there, but for the first time she also saw that it was no bird. A second later, the creature flew alongside her. Eyeshide did not know what to think.

The newcomer was very like a khirala, yet also very different. It had two wings, four legs, and a mane and tail, like a khirala, yet it was much larger, and its coat was a different shade of darkness. It had hooves, but lacked the tufted ears of a khirala, or fangs for breaking the skin of a glowmelon. A long spiral horn, sharp as a spear, protruded from its forehead. Eyeshine could only speculate that it skewered its melons, and lapped up the juices that ran out.

“You see the wisps!” Eyeshine shouted accusingly, not slowing down and keeping herself pointed toward the safety of the Great Hollow. “How? What are you?”

“I do not know myself what I am,” the newcomer said. “I am a traveler, and I am trying to answer that very question. I have never met your kind before, but of your wisps, I did not know that any besides myself could see them. To see so many of them as fill the air tonight gives me great sorrow."

"And you speak our language. Impossible!"

I speak the language of all dreamers. Eyeshine heard the words, even though the other did not move her lips. This magic was beyond her understanding.

“You say you feel sorrow, but I am not sad to see the wisps," Eyeshine said at last, when nothing further was forthcoming from the stranger. "They keep us safe from the surface dwellers that fear them." Something made her feel comfortable revealing the secrets of the khirala to the oversized stranger. “We live where the wisps go, inside the Great Hollow at the center of this forest.”

“At the center of this forest? What wondrous forms life takes,” the other remarked, turning her head to stare at Eyeshine in mid-flight. “Ponies living in Tartarus’ very throat. We must speak further.”

“No. I am returning to—” Eyeshine did not finish, because she disappeared in a flash and immediately found herself standing on the ground in a clearing in the forest. This was impossible, but moreover, every fiber of her being screamed that the forest floor was no place for a khirala. She prepared to spring into flight.

“Fear not. You are safe in my presence,” the stranger said, and Eyeshine did not fly away.

All around, Eyeshine saw, the forest had burned. Trees had been incinerated, and their charcoal remains littered the ground. There were bones too, split and blackened, and tattered remnants of lost lives were everywhere: burned textiles, scattered iron pots, even what might have once been children’s toys.

“What is this?” Eyeshine asked, gazing up at the stranger. “Were these your kind?”

“Yes,” came the reply. “And no. You are as much my kind as they were. Perhaps you and I are closer.” The stranger gazed at the destruction impassively. “This is why there are so many of the spirits you call wisps. War is taking all the land. Entire races may vanish forever. I fear the deerfolk of the white woods are already too depleted to recover, and still they fight on.”

“What is war?” Eyeshine asked, awestruck by the stranger’s powerful, resounding voice as much as by her words. “The khirala do know the word.”

“Spirits!” the stranger swore. “Then you know nothing. I should leave you to your innocence, hidden from the specter of war even as you live in death’s very shadow. But no, you will enter this world again in time. You must know. First, you must call me Luna.”

“Luna,” Eyeshine repeated. It was a foreign name, meaningless to her. “I am Eyeshine.”

“Thank you, Eyeshine,” Luna replied. “As we speak, a great war is being fought between the ponies who claimed much of this land centuries ago, and those who were here first, who lived in these lands since time immemorial: the dogs, deer, and others. None are free to live in peace and security. The earth ponies who died on this spot were merely refugees fleeing the fighting. They had no weapons, nor even one warrior among them, yet not even foals were spared. Look up, Eyeshine, and see.”

Eyeshine did, and saw that dozens of wisps were circling not far overhead. Suddenly, one broke away from the group and began to glide in the direction of home, toward the Hollow. “They are the dead,” she said at last, then shook her head. “But that cannot be. When the khirala pass on, we choose to fly to the Terminus while we still have life in our wings. We leave our husks, but we do not become like the wisps.”

“Do you not?” Luna asked. “I sense you share the gift of the true sight with me.” She raised a foreleg to indicate the forms swirling above. “You see wisps, but I can see Diamond Star, and Peach Surprise, and Cabbage Cart. I knew them. I traveled with them for a time. A pony with the true sight will never see somepony they know as merely a shapeless spirit in death, for the truth is they remain exactly as they lived, to the seer. You see the dead go to Tartarus, and though they appear as they did in life to you, they are wisps.”

“Our sight lies?” Eyeshine asked, aghast.

“The true sight sees only truth,” Luna said. “It is the others who see the lie.”

"And these wisps? Why do I not see who they were?"

"This is their truth for you," Luna replied. "They are formless, nameless, shapeless. Casualties that happened, lives lost, but they are less than real to you, even though you see them."

Eyeshine did not know what to say to this challenge to the collective perception and fundamental understanding of her entire race. “Then, do you know what they will find, when they reach the Terminus?” she finally asked, impulsively.

“A new life? A new world? A void? Nothing?" Luna shrugged. "I shall know someday. Or perhaps not. Tartarus exists, but it is only a passageway, and for some, a prison."

“I am not ready to pass through there yet. Will your war find us in the Great Hollow?”

“War is the eternal enemy of all life. Your kind lives. Even in that place, the war will find you eventually, if it is not checked. Such is its nature.”

Eyeshine looked at the regal creature towering above her and resolutely met her gaze. “Then I must do something to stop it before that happens, to keep the war away from my home, as the beaters knock the claw crawlers from the cavern walls before they get close. Tell me how I can stop it.”

Luna sighed. “You cannot, little one. But I could. I, and the one other like me. I could have saved the ponies who died here, but I dared not intervene.”

“Why? When there are more wisps filling the air with each Gathering? When there is so much death?”

“I defeated a great foe once, when I was still new, along with the other like me, and they tried to crown us. We refused, and chose instead to travel the world, and learn. It would be no different a second time. Understand that we do not grow old or sick. We could not be overthrown. We are indomitable. How could we sit the throne, knowing our reign might last ten thousand years, or a million? There would be no civilization. No progress. Nothing more than an immortal cult, living in reverent stagnation, generation after shiftless generation. Such a fate might be worse than what now lies before you.”

“Our elders are revered,” Eyeshine said in protest, “but they do not rule our lives. The schedulekeepers, the sentinels, the beaters, the caretakers, and the gatherers like me choose our lots, and we do what must be done for our families and the others. Why could you not exist like that, as a respected elder, and let the others manage their own affairs, whatever title might be bestowed upon you?”

“Somepony must lead,” Luna said. “Somepony must direct the flow of an ordered society, and provide for the common defense and the welfare of the nation. I do not think I should be that pony. I have too many ideas, and I feel too strongly. The other might be worse, for she is too good at heart.”

“We do all those things for ourselves without being commanded. Is it so different on the surface?”

“Vastly different."

“You should still stop this war, if you can.”

The two looked up at the wisps gathered directly above the clearing. They were beginning to disperse more quickly now, and move off toward the Great Hollow in small groups. For the first time, Eyeshine knew there were beings like her among them. Luna could see their faces.

“I would go with you, to do this,” Eyeshine continued, nervously. “I will never see the wisps again without imagining families leaving for the Terminus, all at once, because of your war. It should not be that way, not ever. I know others who would go with you, to stop such evil from touching the Great Hollow. Some already fear that so many wisps may lead to a deep freeze that could turn our sea to ice, or even seal off the passage to the Terminus."

Luna looked down at the young khirala. “You speak truth as well as your eyes see it, my little pony. If the spirits of the war dead continue to multiply, it is only a matter of time before the cold of their passage heralds a new age of the windigos of old. Even I might not be able to counter their power, for my wrath would only give them strength. Perhaps we have already arrived at the critical moment, the time to act."

“Will you take me along?” Eyeshine asked eagerly, surprising herself.

Luna considered the question only for a moment. "If your family permits it." She raised an eyebrow. "Do your kind even have families? I confess I know nothing about you, but I would like to learn."

Eyeshine smiled. “I am khirala. My parents are expecting me to bring dinner tonight. If I go with you, you should know that like all of my kind, I cannot bear to be above ground when the sun appears.”

“I know how that feels,” Luna replied, then observed Eyeshine’s earnestness. “Of course. We shall travel by moonlight.”

“We must return home at once then," Eyeshine said. “The others will think an owlroc has taken me. They will expect me to be on my way to the Terminus, having left the bird my husk for its supper." Eyeshine started. "Oh! That is death."

Luna permitted herself a low chuckle. “I must meet the rest of your kind, living on the doorstop of death, and not comprehending it. Let us visit your Great Hollow.”

Eyeshine beat her wings and took to the night sky. "It is easy to find. We simply follow the wisps," she said.

It was that night, long ago, that Eyeshine, first of the Night Guard, led Luna over the Dark Forest of Hollow Shades, along the paths of the dead, down into the deeps of the Great Hollow, to the secret city of the khirala, at the edge of the Stygian Sea, just outside the mouth of Tartarus.

Author's Note

I wrote this story today, for the Equestria Daily batpony fiction challenge, after reading a notice posted on the EQD website. So if anyone was wondering how my writing looks without the benefit of any planning or rewriting whatsoever, now you know! Also, Happy Nightmare Night!

P.S. The name "khirala" is my own invention, combining part of the Greek-derived scientific name for bats (chiroptera (hand-wing)), with the Latin word for wing, ala (by the way, Equus Alacornus could be a plausible Latinized scientific name for a wing-horn horse). In any event, I think khirala is a rather pleasant sounding, fantasy-esque name for batponies.