The Filly and her Ghosts

‘Hello...?

...Somepony!

...Anypony...’

But nopony answered her

lost

between white snow

and black night.

Sweetie called again, and this time she heard somepony call back to her, and her relief was such that she almost tripped over in the snow.

‘OVER HERE,’ she cried, ‘BY THE LIGHT!’

Though she could hear the other pony it was impossible to see them; the ferocious snowfall was blinding her, huge flakes blowing in her eyes, cold wind stinging. She was soaked. This was coldness like she’d never experienced, and her mind was so overwhelmed that there was only room for one thought at a time: you’re not going to freeze to death, you’re going to find that pony. You’re not going to freeze. You’re not going to freeze.

‘WHERE ARE YOU?’

It wasn’t Eira- that much she was certain of- however the harsh wind made the mysterious voice muffled and indistinct. It sounded like a filly, possibly. What was she doing out here?

... Why did the voice sound so familiar?

‘H-HELLO?’

Sweetie’s teeth clattered, her throat was sore. She wasn’t sure how long she could continue shouting out like this.

Then she had the shock of her life as she heard the other pony again, and realised that the voice was her own. But... how? She wasn’t even opening her mouth, so it must have been her imagination... yet it sounded so real...

It said:

Having a sister is just about the bestest thing in the world,

but it sure isn’t the easiest.

In the darkness past the lantern light, the filly saw shapes dancing. As she squinted her eyes they became more and more vivid, until suddenly she gasped, because she wasn’t in the blizzard anymore but instead trapped in the earliest memory she had: not of home, not even of her parents, but Rarity’s face smiling down at her.

Being sisters is a wonderful thing, but it takes teamwork.

Now Sweetie Belle was four years old, laying on the kitchen floor, relishing the coolness of the tiles after the heat of a summer afternoon; but then she jumped as from upstairs there came a dreadful cry. A moment later Rarity burst into the kitchen, started running the tap over a bleeding hoof.

For a second, Sweetie considered how strange it was that she was in the boutique and not in the blizzard; what was yet stranger was the fact that this felt... it felt...

It felt right. It felt normal.

Another second passed and the memory of the blizzard was blown away- all that mattered was here and now. ‘Are you alright?’ she asked her sister (that her voice was even higher than usual never crossed her mind).

Rarity gritted her teeth. ‘Just leave me be, O.K?’

‘... Did you hurt yourself? Can I make it better?’

Rarity shut her eyes. Sweetie was certain that she was about to be told off, but then her sister took a deep breath, her expression softening into a weak though sincere smile. ‘Darling,’ she said after a pause. ‘You don’t need to ask that. You’re already making it better.’

Sweetie blinked. ‘Huh? But, but I didn’t do anything.’

Confused, she watched the older unicorn switch off the tap and tie a towel around her hoof. ‘Just you being here is something,’ Rarity explained. ‘Come on. I’m finished for today... I feel like I never get to see you anymore now that I’ve moved here, and you’re being picked up tomorrow, are you not? Why don’t we go and see if you’re as natural as dressmaker as I am?’

‘We’re going to make a dress together?’

Rarity beamed at the wonder in the filly’s face.

It was only later Sweetie found out that her sister had cut herself whilst working on a dress for a very important client. It was later still she discovered that, after spending the afternoon with her, Rarity had stayed up all night to get the dress finished on time.

Mostly it’s about having fun together,

even if it means getting your hooves a little bit dirty.

It was the week after Sweetie’s fifth birthday, and it was raining, and how she had ever managed to persuade Rarity to take her to the park was something of a mystery, even to herself. But never mind: here Rarity was dressed in a yellow raincoat, and though she point blank refused to step off the path, the mere fact she was here was more than enough to fill Sweetie with excitement.

‘Sis, look how far I can slide!’

‘That’s nice dear,’ said Rarity, flinching at the sight of her sister jumping into a muddy puddle. The smile, however, was real: Sweetie saw it flash across her sister’s face faster than a shooting star.

That evening, Sweetie Belle felt unwell. ‘Is it honestly any wonder, young lady?’ Rarity said once she’d put Sweetie in the bath. The filly’s response was to shiver, so the older unicorn leaned over the bath, turned on the hot water once again for a minute or so, then magicked a sponge to start scrubbing the mud off the Sweetie’s fur. ‘You’re positively filthy, darling! But you only have yourself to blame- I warned you not to go splashing in puddles.’

Sweetie snivelled; not because she was sad, but rather her nose was running. ‘Totally worth it,’ she said.

She smiled at her sister. Rarity smiled back. Soon, the two of them were giggling and then properly laughing, and it was impossible to stop.

*

There was an awful thunderstorm scheduled for that night, so thank Celestia for Rarity: their parents were on holiday (what was new?) so it was just the two sisters alone, and Rarity refused to leave Sweetie’s side. ‘Sweetie Belle, you’re burning up. Do you want me to fetch another glass of water?’

A crash of thunder was all the answer Rarity needed; despite her throat feeling so swollen, the filly yelped, throwing the covers over her head. ‘Don’t leave me,’ she sobbed. ‘Please.’

Rarity stared at the shaking lump that was her sister. The poor thing. After the bath she’d seemed a little better, that is until she’d thrown up in the kitchen and again in the bathroom. Now she was sweating buckets, and the older unicorn had insisted on giving up her bed (‘I absolutely must; I don’t mind sleeping on the futon.’). Though she ignored the requests to keep the light on, she did, however, stay awake with Sweetie.

Rarity got into bed next to her sister.

‘It’s just a storm, Sweetie Belle. It’ll pass. It is nothing to be alarmed about.’

‘It’s so loud,’ the filly whispered. She removed her head from under the blanket, pressed up against Rarity. ‘Why do we even need a storm?’

‘We can’t have sunshine without a storm every now and then.’

‘But why?’

Sweetie gulped at a flash of lightning. Rarity wrapped a hoof around her.

‘If it was sunny all the time then the crops would wither. The water would dry up. We wouldn’t appreciate-

‘Apprish... huh?’

Rarity thought for a moment. ‘If it was sunny all the time,’ she said, ‘then... we’d get so used to it that we would no longer notice it. A good storm every now and then reminds us why we like it so much.’

The filly tried to think about this, but with her tummy feeling like it was being attacked by knives, with her head foggy, it was too much for her. So she buried her face into her sister’s fur, shutting her eyes, listening to the wind pounding against the windows, the rustling of leaves and twigs, the patter of rain, the thunder. It would’ve been the easiest thing in the world to feel frightened; but even the depths of panic her sister made her feel safe.

Rarity placed her head on the pillow next to Sweetie’s and stroked the filly’s mane. ‘You are loved, Sweetie Belle,’ she whispered so quietly that the filly wondered if she was dreaming it. ‘You’re so loved. Never ever forget that. Never let anypony tell you otherwise...’

Sweetie opened her eyes.

She was met not only with her sister’s loving gaze, but something else as well: a glimmer of light just past Rarity, blue in colour. ‘W-what’s that?’ she asked, but Rarity didn’t seem to hear her. Suddenly, she felt cold, like she was going to throw up again.

The light was getting stronger and stronger. The little unicorn couldn’t figure out what was making it.

‘Rarity, what is it?’

She sat bolt upright, but ill as she was this made the room spin, made everything seem faint and indistinct. She was colder than ever. It felt like she was being attacked with ice...

Whumph.

Sweetie Belle fell over in the snow, dropping her lantern (it was extinguished immediately). Where was Rarity, where was the bedroom? What had happened?

... She’d lost herself in memories, that’s what...

‘Calm down, Sweetie. You’re alright. You just forgot yourself for a minute.’

Her forehead was covered in sweat. It had felt so real. No, it had been real; no memories were that vivid, it wasn’t possible.

The following morning the storm had blown out and Rarity had made her breakfast in bed. By the evening she had been back to normal, and-

‘Stop it,’ she said to herself. ‘This isn’t helping.’

She shook her head, and as she did, it occurred to her the snowfall had almost died out. In front of her was that strange blue light...

Actually, not strange after all: it was Eira.