Moonlight streamed in through the open window, the curtains fluttering gently as a spring breeze blew into the room. The mare, asleep in her bed, turned beneath the sheets as she dreamed of pleasant things. Warm memories of friends and family filled her mind, and a smile spread across her face.
At least that's what I assumed had caused her to smile.
As the mare slept, she was unaware that I watched her most every night—not that creepy, stalker-ish kind of watching—more of the curious kind. I was curious at to what she dreamed about, but I was more curious of what she did outside the library. My circumstances had left me bound to the library, so all I could ever do was wonder.
I would wander around until she returned, watching her little dragon clean up her messes. As strenuous as it was, I liked to play little jokes on him now and then. There wasn't much else to do, being dead, so I'd knock books over, and rattle the shelves to scare the dragon. Nothing harmful by any means, just a good laugh.
He knew that I resided in the library, but he could never convince the mare of it. Unicorns are far too logical to believe in ghosts, or spirits, or anything of the like. I wanted her to notice me, but she always played it off as the wind, or her imagination. Every once in while, I would curl up next to her on her bed, imagining what she felt like, and every time, she would wake up and stare at me.
Her eyes would focus on the wall behind me, she'd blink a few times, and then roll over when she saw nothing. You'd think that you couldn't feel once you've died, but emotions like pain and sorrow cling to your soul. I felt pained that this unicorn didn't know I existed, and I would look at her with sorrow every day, wondering how long until she became like me.
It would have been a lot sooner had it not been for me.
As the breeze ruffled the curtains, I stood at the window looking out over Ponyville. It had changed so much over the twenty or so years since my accident, and I felt the sorrow well up inside my non-existent gut. As much as I didn't enjoy the Realm of the Dead, it never changed. I thought, perhaps, I should just stay there instead of spending so much time mourning the past.
I took a long look at the mare I'd come to know as Twilight Sparkle, and thought what I would say to her if she could hear me. Nothing came to mind. I sighed and went back to looking out the window.
To my surprise, there was a robed figure in the street, staring up at me. At first, I thought it was a reaper, but it wasn't big or scary enough. The figure was talking, monologuing to itself as it stood at the base of the Golden Oak Library. It was certainly one of the stranger things I'd seen.
The hood of the figure came off, revealing the face of a blue unicorn mare. Possibly a friend of Twilight's, I assumed at first, but the mare began talking louder, and more angrily. Suddenly, a burst of red magic erupted from the mare's horn and struck the library. The whole tree shook, and the window I'd been looking through slammed shut.
Twilight woke up and began looking around frantically. She jumped out of her bed and instinctively ran to the window where I was still standing. Just as she went to look outside, a wall of flames covered the window.
I couldn't feel the heat, but judging by Twilight's reaction it was intense. She jumped back and lowered her head to cast a spell. I'd seen her do it a thousand times—I knew she was excellent at magic, but this time she struggled. Her horn gave off a few sparks and nothing more.
Smoke had begun to billow in from every crack in the room, and Twilight coughed and sputtered. She ran to the door and tried to fling it open, but a red aura kept it firmly shut. I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could do. It took too much of my energy to move a couple books, never mind tear a hole in the wall.
"Help me! Spike! Any pony! Please!" Twilight shouted. She coughed and fell to the floor in a heap. Tiny, little embers sprouted from the wood around her and started to singe her body. She was so close to death, and I was helpless to stop it!
I got down on the floor next to her and tried to shield her body with mine. Her breathing was becoming increasingly more raspy as her lungs filled with smoke, and I could sense her starting to fade. That's when I looked up to see the reaper.
It stood tall and menacing in the corner of Twilight's room, its face completely obscured by the tattered black cloak it wore. A reaper's one job was to separate a pony's soul from its physical body, and they let nothing get in the way of that job. It moved from the shadows, gliding toward me as if beneath its robes were wheels rather than hooves.
"No, it's not her time!" I shouted to the reaper. I received no response as the reaper simply levitated its scythe over its head. Twilight's coughing had come to a stop and she lay very still beneath me. There was only one thing I could think to do at that moment, and I feared it would destroy my soul. But if it gave Twilight the tiniest chance at survival, I was willing to do it.
I focused as hard as I could to make at least my hooves physical. Twilight's eyes opened and she looked at me. She may not have been able to see me, but she could feel me as I wrapped around her body. Using every ounce of strength I possessed, I transported us out of her bedroom. I transported us to the Realm of the Dead.
