The Filly and her Ghosts

By the time Sweetie and Twilight got back to the library, not only had the snow stopped falling but Luna’s stars were coming out, bright and clear, like sugar sprinkled over the black sky. To think that a couple of hours ago Sweetie had never wanted the snow to thaw; then again, the world had been a very different place.

Twilight lingered on the doorstep, gazing at the stars. ‘I’ve never seen a blizzard clear up so quickly before,’ she said to Sweetie. ‘Although I suppose it wasn’t an ordinary storm.’

The filly looked at her curiously; she seemed to be thinking intently, lost in some distant memory or feeling. Where was she going with this?

‘There... there was one night when I was your age,’ Twilight said after a lengthy pause, ‘and Princess Celestia took me up to the tallest room of the tallest tower. The sky was so clear! All the stars were out, and she told me the names of every single constellation.’

Sweetie Belle blinked, much like Apple Bloom had done earlier at the mention of an unfamiliar name. ‘Cons... costa... huh?’

‘Constellation. It’s when you look at a group of stars and they form a picture, like a big dot-to-dot puzzle. Can you see them?’ Twilight pointed at some particularly bright stars shining above the town hall. ‘That one, that’s Lightning Dash- can you see how those five stars look like a pair of wings? Lightning Dash was the fastest pegasus of the pre-classical era and one of the bravest. Can you see him charging at the Hydra so he can save the Twins?’ She pointed to more stars, although she may as well have left her hooves in the snow for all the good it did Sweetie.

Except...

Sometimes all it takes is to look at something from a different perspective. ‘The Twins?’ asked Sweetie.

‘Look at the two bright stars above Canterlot, then work downwards.’

And the filly gasped because suddenly she could see them so clearly that it was a marvel she had never noticed them before. The two stars formed the tips of their horns, two unicorns who had their glittering hooves wrapped around each other. Their eyes were closed. They would always be bound together in the sky, their love never-ending.

When Sweetie looked at Twilight again, she was surprised to see the purple unicorn holding back tears. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Sweetie Belle,’ she whispered. ‘Especially when he mentioned Firefly: Celestia really did have a student called that, but, a hundred years ago. The Great and Powerful Taurus as well... he owned one of the most famous magic shops in Canterlot, until one day his son vanished, never seen from again...’

It took Sweetie a few seconds to realise the implication of this but when she did, she felt a horrid chill that had nothing to do with the cold. ‘It’s my fault,’ the filly said. ‘I should’ve left well alone enough. I mean, enough well alone. I mean-

‘Well enough alone?’

Sweetie nodded. Twilight sighed. ‘That sounds like Rarity talking. You shouldn’t listen to everything she tells you.’

‘But I always mess things up,’ Sweetie cried. ‘Everything I try to do something nice for Rarity I end up making things worse! I’m...’ Her voice broke. ‘I’m useless.’

Twilight knelt down in the snow to look the filly directly in the eyes. But whereas before Sweetie had felt as though Twilight was probing her mind, now those purple eyes were filled with pity and love; and courage shone there, and when the lavender unicorn spoke she did so with quiet fierceness. ‘Sweetie Belle, you are not useless. Do you know how much magic would never have been discovered if ponies ‘left well enough alone’? Do you know how many cutie marks would never have been found? Because I know. I’ve read about it, and I can tell you it’s a lot. We make mistakes. We fix them.’

The filly could see something of her sister in Twilight’s face, that same passion, and for the briefest moment it not only seemed possible that they could save the others but positively easy. ‘H-how?’ she whispered to Twilight. ‘How do we fix this?’

‘Well. For starters we can check out that book of yours.’

Twilight stood tall, finally opening the door and switching on the lights (they still worked, thank Celestia). The Book lay on the floor. It seemed so innocent, like any other misplaced book waiting to be put back on the shelf. ‘Wait here,’ said Twilight. ‘If anything happens, you run. Understand?’

‘You mean leave you here?’

‘Do you promise me, Sweetie Belle?’

Sweetie trembled, but seeing how serious Twilight was she nodded reluctantly, and sat on the floor where she started biting her hooves.

Yet for all her worrying, the Book continued to behave as any other. When Twilight nudged it with her horn, nothing happened. When she picked it up with magic, it merely hung there, looking as bored as it’s possible for a book to look. When she riffled through the pages, nothing appeared on them, no blots of ink, no sentences. Had they not already known what it was capable of they would’ve sworn it was no more than what it seemed: completely unremarkable.

As Sweetie waited, her mind became overrun with Rarity: the two nights she had had pony-pox, but Rarity had stayed with her the whole time, had even made her a blanket; the morning she’d been convinced Rarity had forgotten her birthday but it had turned out that, with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, she had helped prepare the most brilliant surprise party; and the day Rarity had run with her in the Sisterhooves Social. Her dear sister- who normally wouldn’t even touch earth unless it was imported- had not only gotten dirty but downright muddy! The memory brought a smile to the filly’s face, and so it was a few seconds until she noticed Twilight waving a hoof in front of her eyes.

‘Sweetie Belle, I think it’s time you showed me that chest.’

***

Ten minutes and a mug of hot chocolate: that’s what it took to finally convince Sweetie to go back upstairs. Stealing a last sip of her drink, she faced the staircase, concentrating hard on Twilight’s words. You are not useless.

‘I can do this,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Cutie Mark Crusader... um... stair-master?’

She blushed, realising that Twilight had overheard her thinking out loud. But whereas another time the purple mare might’ve giggled, now she put an encouraging hoof on her back and said: ‘Surely you mean Cutie Mark Crusader rescuer? I think that has a better ring to it.’

She said it with complete seriousness. To the filly, it meant the whole world.

... The first step made Sweetie think of Apple Bloom; the second, of Rarity. The staircase seemed to extend as she walked up it, like it was feeding off her fear, was growing before her eyes; if Twilight hadn’t been behind her nudging her flank, she wondered if she would’ve already run back downstairs, galloped out of the door to never step hoof inside the library ever again.

‘You’re doing great, Sweetie. Just a little further.’

Sweetie shook her head. ‘Twi, I can’t do this, I can’t, let’s go back.’

‘But there might be clues. I’ll need your help.’

‘H-how come?’

‘Because I spent a whole fortnight trying to open that chest, then you and Apple Bloom come along and it opens by itself. That’s how come.’

The bedroom was exactly how Sweetie had left it, the pile of books half sorted, and in front of them that horrible chest.

... But something had changed. Before, the chest had been dark, imposing. It had lodged itself into the fillies minds where no amount of sorting had been able to displace it, no amount of joking around, deciding if ‘The Lord of the Saddles’ belonged in fantasy or fashion, and no amount of arguing over whether Twilight really had spent her weekends as a foal sorting out books in a dusty Canterlot library. But now... it was simply a chest. It didn’t fill Sweetie with dread. The padlock on the floor wasn’t cause for concern. She was baffled as to why it had ever scared her in the first place.

‘They found it in the vaults of the Royal Canterlot library,’ Twilight explained as she levitated the contents out. ‘It belonged to Cherry Blossom herself- I couldn’t believe it when they told me, her legendary trunk with all her personal papers, rediscovered at last! She died thirty years ago (I mean, obviously), so, it must’ve been lying there that whole time but somehow nopony noticed. There was no trace of any key so they tried to open it with magic, but when that didn’t work they went to Princess Celestia for help. And would you believe it, the Princess wrote to me and asked if I would be interested in studying it- how could I possibly say no to that? So they sent it to me the very next day and it’s been in my room ever since, and look at all these papers, oh wow, oh wow! Look at her hoofwriting, it’s beautiful!’

Twilight was almost breathless from her involuntary excitement. Sweetie Belle stared at her.

‘Cherry... Cherry who?’

Twilight gave Sweetie a severe expression. ‘Cherry Blossom,’ she said, as though repeating it would help it make sense. Sweetie blinked again. ‘You must know Cherry Blossom! The inventor of the camera? There wouldn’t be such thing as photos without her; in a way she’s one of the most important unicorns of the past hundred years.’

Sweetie looked at the older unicorn’s hooves. ‘I’m sorry Twi,’ she said, quietly. ‘I’ve never heard of her.’

Twilight stared at the filly as though seeing her clearly for the first time, but then forced herself to shut her eyes and take a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry Sweetie. There are better things to worry about right now.’

‘... What are we looking for anyway?’

‘We’re going to search through these papers. We’re going to look for things which might be helpful. There’s bound to be something.’

‘All these papers?’

Twilight grinned. ‘It’s only a small pile, shouldn’t take too long.’

The ‘small pile’ was marginally taller than Sweetie Belle, and slightly wider. ‘Twi, it’s going to take us forever to read all this!’

But the librarian had already picked up her first paper, her eyes darting across the page so fast it made Sweetie dizzy to look at her.

This wasn’t helping.

As safe as Twilight made her feel, could they really find what they were looking for in these papers? What were they looking for? A spell to reverse what had happened? But what if it wasn’t there, then what? Make one up? See if Zecora or Princess Celestia held the answers? But why would they?

The fear started in Sweeties hooves, as though she was standing in a river and the water was rising; and now it tickled her belly in the most uncomfortable way, making her think of the things which could still go wrong. What if no spell existed at all? Or maybe they had until the break of dawn to discover it, or midnight; that’s how enchantments worked in bedtime stories. It was half past nine. If her hunch was right that left them two and a half hours until there was no more Pinkie Pie or Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy’s animals would have to fend for themselves. Granny Smith and Big Mackintosh would never see the Apple sisters ever again, never hear their voices, never play with them, never work with them.

She would never see Rarity again.

‘No! I won’t let that happen!’

‘Excuse me?’ said Twilight peering up from her latest paper.

‘Twilight,’ Sweetie said, anxiously. ‘Eira seemed to know what he was talking about, didn’t he?’

‘But we don’t know where he is Sweetie.’

‘Isn’t it obvious? He said he was going to Canterlot! If he’s really been missing for a hundred years, there’s no way he’ll know how to get there before us. Twilight, we could wait for him.’

Twilight put her paper down. ‘Sweetie Belle, that’s... actually a really good idea!’ She glanced at the clock. ‘The last train is in twenty-five minutes- if we leave right now we could make it. Oh, but would they still be running after all this snow? And we should bring all these papers. Where did I put my bag? Think Twilight Sparkle, think- I know it’s around somewhere.’

‘Twilight-

‘Was it by my bed? Look at this mess! Oh, I could’ve sworn I had ‘clean bedroom’ on my checklist-

‘Twilight.’

The filly pointed at the desk, besides which was a blue saddlebag. Despite the older unicorn’s purple fur, it was obvious she was blushing. ‘Umm, right. By my desk. Of course.’

Twilight started to magic the papers into her bag (even when rushing she still managed to make them impeccably neat). Sweetie scanned around the room looking for anything which might be helpful.

Anything at all...

... Something caught her eye.

There, on the underneath of the lid of the chest: an engraving, a square, and there was also a hinge.

‘Twilight, look at this.’

‘We don’t have time.’

‘But look.’

The way Sweetie said this- demanding, confident- she sounded so much like her sister that Twilight gaped at her. The older unicorn strode up to the chest and the filly pointed out the hinge, and there was a spark in the air; both of them could feel it, making their fur stand on end. Here was a hidden compartment in a chest that had missing for thirty years.

The secret compartment had no handle- it could only be opened with magic. Sweetie hardly dared to breathe as the engraving lit up with Twilight’s magic, and slowly it opened up. Behind it was-

‘The Diary of Cherry Blossom, Aged 7 to 10,’ Twilight read in a hushed tone. ‘Oh goodness...’

The diary had a tatty grey cover and pages yellowed with age, and you could almost see aura of mystery which hung around it. How delightful must this unicorn’s childhood have been if she had gone to such great lengths to preserve the diary?

... Twenty minutes.

‘I, I think we have to go now, Twi,’ Sweetie whispered, her stomach lurching. She picked up the diary in her mouth, shoved it in the bag amongst the papers, then they rushed down the stairs, stopping only to retrieve the Book (‘don’t argue Sweetie, you know we can’t leave it here,’). Twilight dashed out of the door into the snow-

But Sweetie froze on the doorstep. It was as though her uncertainty had taken on physical form; it ensnared her, a hideous monster which made her want to curl up on a bed, shut the curtains, lock the doors. You’re useless, the creature spat in her ear. You’re useless, and nothing Twilight says will ever change that. The moment you step hoof off the doorstep you’re going to ruin everything.

‘Sweetie Belle?’

If you were all alone than you’d never mess things up. Go back to the boutique. Set up your tent. It’s all you’re good for.

Sweetie knelt down in the snow, no longer thinking about the train. But Twilight knelt next to her. ‘Do you know why Cherry Blossom invented the camera?’ she said. ‘When she was born her father left, and a few years later her mother died in an accident. It was just her and her older brother until one night he vanished, and she never told anyone what had happened.’

For a moment, their eyes wandered to the bag on Twilight’s back, where the Book was. Twilight continued.

‘She invented the camera because she said that ponies... they needed a way to ‘preserve the ones they loved’. No matter how far away you were from your friends and family, you could look at a photo and it was like they were there right by your side, always reminding you that you’re loved.’

‘That’s not the same though,’ Sweetie whispered back. ‘I don’t want a picture of Rarity. I just want Rarity.’

‘Let’s go to Canterlot and get her back then, shall we?’

Twilight stood up and held out a hoof, but the monster of uncertainty hissed in Sweetie’s ear not to take it. ‘What if I’m wrong? I wasn’t lying earlier, I always mess things up.’

‘If you mess things up enough then eventually you’ll get them right.’

Sweetie couldn’t explain why she thought of it even to herself, but the image of Twilight shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath flashed in her mind, clear as a photo. She gulped. She shut her own eyes so tightly she felt she might never open them again as long as she lived; and she didn’t merely breathe deeply, but rather took the breath of her life, placing a trembling hoof on Twilight’s, and standing up to face her troubles.

***

Sweetie always savoured her visits to the Ponyville railway station. It was nothing impressive: a ticket office and a single platform (she remembered vividly her one visit to Manehatten: the terminus had left her awe-struck, a cathedral of steam and steel and ponies). But there was something about the idea of trains which filled her with excitement. They meant adventures, travelling, and perhaps those distant lands held the answer to discovering her cutie mark. She loved to imagine journeying to the Mild West, or to the great northern city of Stalliongrad, or to the wastes of the Art-hoof Circle.

Not that she had ever told anypony this. Certainly, she had never shared it with Rarity.

‘You alright, Sweetie?’

‘I’m fine. Promise.’

They had arrived in the nick of time (or so they’d thought until the delay). But at least the night train was rarely busy: they had the entire back carriage all to themselves, and it was lit with gas lanterns made out of polished brass, and the carpet was green, and there were two rows of squashy seats. Everything felt posh. This was definitely a train bound for Canterlot.

The sound of the carriage door opening snapped the filly out of her thoughts. ‘Sweetie?’ said Twilight again. ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’

‘I’m, I’m sure.’

Sweetie Belle stared at the door, but though she was sure she had heard it open, there was nopony there...

The whistle blew, snapping her out of her thoughts. There was the crunch of steel against steel, and there was hissing and steam, and the feel of what could’ve been a great mechanical heart pulsing through the floor of the train. With a surge of wonder Sweetie watched the platform slip away from them to be swallowed up by Luna’s night, and, through the window, she saw the Twins glittering in the sky, guiding the way to Canterlot.

Without thinking about it she threw her hooves around Twilight Sparkle; the sort of hug she usually reserved for her parents or Rarity. Twilight gasped but Sweetie didn’t care, because for the time being the lavender unicorn was her sister. She had lifted Sweetie up when she’d needed it, had reminded her that there were ponies who loved her...

‘Sweetie Belle,’ Twilight cried. ‘What’s this?’

The filly’s answer was to hold on tighter. A second later Twilight surrendered, returning the embrace, then for several minutes they said nothing, the filly fighting to stay awake in the unicorn’s soft, comfy mane.

‘... I suppose we should look at this diary then,’ Twilight said at last as Sweetie stifled a tremendous yawn- the filly thought about asking if she could curl up and rest her eyes for a couple of minutes. What happened next, though, made her feel like she had been tossed into a tub of icy slush.

Twilight opened her satchel to pull out the diary. She placed it on the wooden table in front of them, turning to the first page.

It was empty. Cherry Blossom had never written in it.

‘But why hide it?’ Sweetie asked. ‘Why bother?’

Twilight turned the page over- there was something written there, though it was extremely faint, like it had been lying in the light of Celestia’s sun. And as they tried to read, the ink seemed to become fainter and fainter... or was it a trick of the light? Twilight turned up the gas in the lantern on the wall next to them, but the writing continued to grow paler. Her gaze coasted from the book to the table. She squinted her eyes. ‘What the...?’

And Sweetie gasped because she saw it too: like ants marching from a nest, the writing was leaving the diary! Twilight skimmed through the pages as fast as her hooves would let her but it was too late, and beneath the back cover was a big pile of Cherry Blossom’s words, all of which were forming a line, and the line was drifting off the table and cascading into the blue satchel.

Twilight, a horrified look on her face, magicked the Book out of her bag but it had already swallowed the contents of the diary. The papers as well; before they had been full of writing, but now they were as barren as deserts.

Sweetie Belle pressed her back against the window, attempting to put as much space between her and Book as possible. ‘Put it back,’ she said to Twilight through clenched teeth. ‘Shove it in the bag.’

Twilight didn’t need telling twice- she had already placed the Book back, pulled the straps as hard as she could, and she tossed the bag to the other side of the side of the carriage where it fell behind a seat.

‘OUCH!’

Eira shot up from behind the seat, rubbing his head where the bag had hit him; then it dawned on him what he had done. He and Sweetie stared at each other in stunned silence...

How was he here? How was it possible?

‘Sweetie Belle,’ said Twilight as slowly as she dared. ‘Keep calm. Don’t do anything rash-

Too late. Sweetie, her heart bursting from fear and hatred and a hundred other horrible feelings, jumped over the table and charged with all her might at the quivering Eira.