In Which Sweetie Belle Tries to Make New Friends
Author's Note
Please note that while this story is written in the limited third-person perspective, the story is still subject to Sweetie Belle's point of view. Except for her words, thoughts, and actions, all descriptions and depictions are her interpretations and should never be taken objectively.
In Which Sweetie Belle Tries to Make New Friends
Some people see too much, piercing the thin veil of commonly accepted reality to observe the stranger aspects of the world around them. Some hide this ability, fearing not what others will say as much as what the things they see will do should they discover that someone knows their secrets. Others speak of it, only to be informed that they must stop fantasising and live in the real world. A few lose themselves to madness or to despair, being driven to death if they are fortunate, or else to a life of imprisonment and drugs for the unlucky.
Sweetie Belle had long considered herself somewhere between the latter two groups. Medications that left her lethargic were the standard. Any hint of being abnormal resulted in one of her parents or her sister shoving a pill into her mouth before calling her psychiatrist. By the time she completed primary school, she had already accepted that there was something wrong with her.
Then she met someone who called herself Sparky. While it may have been easy for an outside observer to confuse the older teen with the infamous Sunset Shimmer - indeed, the two shared a body and most of a mind - there was no mistaking the girl who spoke with faeries and wielded the power of Supernal magick for the reformed bully.
The meeting lit a candle of hope. Accepting the loud voices that accused her of madness was easy. After all, no one would want to believe in the things she had seen. Instead, meeting Sparky not only proved that she was in the right, but that the strange beasts were not the only beings to share her world: Other humans had the power to stand up to whatever sought to make them into prey. She was nothing against them, but the flame-haired teen and others like her could protect those unable to stand alone in the darkness.
Despite being forced from her home by a family that loved her only when she did what they wished, she could pretend to be happy. At times, it was even true. Today in particular was one of those days, as she was spending it with some of her favourite people. Old friends and new had joined together in an age-old bonding ritual: Shopping.
"I don't know, Apple Bloom. I don't think we're going to find any treasures," Scootaloo stated as she sifted through piles of oddities. It looked as though someone had emptied several junk drawers onto a single table. She hefted a rubber band ball nearly the size of her head. "Some of this stuff is neat and all, but it's probably not worth much."
"Ah guess yer right. Any luck over there, Sweetie Belle?"
"Nothing."
The Crusaders turned their gazes to the far wall of the church gymnasium. The monthly flea market attempted to organise tables by content, though the success of the endeavour was debatable. They currently stood at the back, in a section labelled "Misc." Clothing and jewellery occupied the front of the gymnasium. Only the lilac-haired girl was interested in those tables; when they first arrived, she had followed her two best friends to the sections they found more interesting.
"You mind if I see what the others are doing?" she asked.
"Might as well. I wanted to get a hot dog, anyway, and I don't want you barfing on me again," Scootaloo replied with a grin.
"Now hold it right there, Scootaloo. Ain't like Sweetie Belle can help it. She sure don't need ya makin' fun of her."
Scootaloo looked down, abashed. She rubbed the back of her neck as she apologised. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
Sweetie Belle giggled. "It's okay, I know you didn't. You go ahead, I'll catch up later."
They separated, Sweetie Belle scurrying off by herself to pursue a fleeting glimpse of her youngest friend. She found Midnight Radiance standing on her toes to look at a display of voodoo dolls, masques, and various occult items that Sweetie Belle was surprised to see available within a Christian church, even for a flea market. It was easy to see what had caught her eye: A knife. It had a faux-ebony handle carved to the shape of a resting bat.
"I want to get that for Ace, but they won't sell it to me," she complained. "Can you look for Pearl or Sunset? I'll make sure they don't sell it."
"Sure."
Her search had Sweetie Belle head straight to the books. Sunset Shimmer and her mentor were skimming a few, a stack of four set between them for purchase. Despite being Awakened, there was no guarantee that their interest in "Horses and Companions" or "Whispers of the Ice" had anything to do with magick. Both women were avid readers of mundane literature, though neither compared to Twilight Sparkle. The young scientist was carrying a stack of books that stretched from her arms to her nose and likely weighed more than Sweetie Belle, even with the added weight of the baby.
Unlike her parents, neither Sunset nor Pearl ignored her when she wanted to speak with them. Upon hearing their names, both looked up from their reading to let her see their smiles, obviously cheerful at having such a wide assortment of books to peruse.
"Midnight needs an adult to buy a knife for her."
"I'll go," Sunset offered.
They arrived just as a man was reaching for the knife. He was spared an aggrieved Witch's hex by Sunset grabbing it before he could, then presenting it for Midnight's examination.
"Is this what you wanted?"
"Yes, thanks."
Looking at the bored young woman staffing the table - who was more focused on her mobile than on her job - Sunset said, "I'm with her. She can buy it."
"Fine." She collected the money, then went back to whatever she was doing on her mobile. Based on how and where she was tapping the screen, she seemed to be chatting with someone.
Sunset accepted Midnight's thanks before returning to the books, leaving the two younger girls to stroll at their leisure. Like the other two Crusaders, Midnight was not particularly interested in clothing; she was instead looking for gifts for her brothers. Though she had acquired one for Ace, she still needed something for Clash, and clothing did not last long on someone who changed shape - regularly without warning - multiple times each week.
"Thanks for your help. After he ignored me when I said I wanted it, I was sure I'd have to do something else to get that guy to leave the knife alone."
"Happy to help. It's not like you haven't helped me out loads of times."
Midnight grabbed her hand. "Come with me; I have an idea to pay you back."
She led Sweetie Belle to the toilets, where they locked themselves into one of the women's room stalls.
"I'll use a simple Fate Unveiling on you to help you find something. Is there anything you'd like? I can't be too strict, but it can't be too simple, either."
Pondering for a moment, Sweetie Belle played through her recent memories. She was content with her current life, so nothing was coming to mind. Then she felt a little movement in her womb, as though the baby was reminding her not to be selfish.
"Would 'a good present for my baby' work?"
"That'll probably give you lots of things. What kind of present do you want? You said you don't want to know if it's a boy or girl, so you shouldn't ask ifor anything like clothes."
Sweetie Belle hummed as she thought of what she could ask to find that would not spoil the surprise. The fact that she was contemplating a genuine spell while a real Mage stood in front of her stopped her thoughts in their tracks. The answer was obvious.
"I want to find 'something to keep my baby safe.'"
Midnight nodded. She spoke a few words, twisting her fingers into odd shapes. Sweetie Belle was no stranger to magick, but she still loved to see it used when it was not meant to be harmful. The words were not in any language spoken by humanity, and were not meant to be used in the normal manner, instead being primarily symbolic. Only Mages understood it; based on what Pearl had told her, it was known as High Speech and was meant to evoke aspects of whatever spell a Mage wanted to cast. Sunset had tried to explain it, but as a new Mage herself, she lacked an understanding of it beyond broad simplifications. To normal people - Sleepers - the words in spoken or written form were merely an unknown language. To a Sleepwalker like Sweetie Belle, they were a hint of the power that her new friends commanded. Likewise, the finger movements might as well have been a nerve disorder for all that they would mean anything to the average person, though she knew they played an important role in getting everything to work.
Her friends sometimes teasingly called Sweetie Belle a walking dictionary. It may have been true that she had an unusually large vocabulary for her age - when she thought to use it - but she did not know any words to describe her thoughts and feelings every time she had the privilege of watching a Mage perform a spell. Perhaps a bit of her was envious, but she was primarily in awe. Even if she could not feel it, her imagination supplied images of Midnight Radiance calling on her connection to a higher realm to impose her will on the world. That Sweetie Belle was the recipient only enhanced her excitement.
The spell took a scant few seconds to cast, and Sweetie Belle felt no different for it. As she examined her hands, Midnight explained, "Go look about, but don't think about it. You'll just ... notice something. That's what my spell will be trying to show you. I'm going to get something to eat. Come get me if it doesn't help. See you later."
"I will. Thanks, Midnight, this was really kind of you."
Neither Apple Bloom nor Scootaloo had returned from the parking lot yet and Pearl and Sunset were still at the book tables. Twilight was no longer with them; she had someone wheeling books out the door for her on a trolley. Even with the minuscule price on most of the things for sale, Sweetie Belle could not help feeling envious of the amount of pocket money Twilight's family gave her.
That left Sweetie Belle to peruse at her whim, which was exactly what Midnight had suggested. She decided to start at the front. Since she had asked for something protective, she expected that clothing would not respond unless it was armour of some kind, so that section would make a perfect testing ground.
As a first time to have a long-term spell cast on her, it was not a bad experience. She could not feel it as Sunset or the other Awakened could, but something did seem different. As she wandered past the tables of clothing that had not been in style since Pearl was young, she felt as though her eyes were a little unfocused. Only the clothing was blurred; she could walk safely and had no problem focusing on an item if she stopped to examine it.
Not one article from the many clothing tables resolved itself without her intervention. She was not sure if that was a sign of the magick, but it seemed likely.
Sweetie Belle continued on to the next section of jewelry. At the second table, two small children ran past her, one bumping her and knocking her off-balance. Sweetie Belle grabbed the table for support, and then her eyes landed on a necklace.
It was beautiful: A silvery chain strap upholding a crescent moon-shaped pendant. The pendant itself was a pale purple stone carved with fine lines gracefully interwoven into a nonsensical design that was nevertheless pleasing to the eye. They mingled and branched across the face, something about following their ambling form calming to her mind. Two small, light grey gemstones capped the points of the crescent, another larger one at its centre.
She felt drawn to it, so she checked the small price tag affixed to the chain. The cost was almost double the amount of pocket money Sunset had given her. If the necklace was the item Midnight's spell meant for her to find, Sweetie Belle realised that she had not thought to factor price into her request.
"That's a nice one," a high-pitched male voice said.
Sweetie Belle turned to find Button Mash standing behind her. "When did you get here?"
"A little bit ago, but I got stuck outside because of Apple Bloom and Scootaloo having a hot dog-eating contest. Want some popcorn?" He held the bag to her face.
Sweetie Belle felt her stomach clench as the buttery scent assaulted her nose. Bile rose in the back of her throat. She pushed his hand back, shaking her head as she forced the uncomfortable sensation to pass.
"No, thanks. Me and popcorn don't get along right now."
"Oh, sorry about that. Is it like the hot dog incident?"
"Exactly like that."
He stepped back. "Fear not, my princess. Your hero, Button Mash, will vanquish the vile popcorn threat."
That earned him a giggle. He ate quickly, tossing the empty bag into a rubbish bin before approaching her again.
"So, are you gonna get that necklace? I think it'd look really nice on you."
"I want to, but I don't have enough to buy it."
His face fell, but brightened rapidly. "Once again, the great hero comes to rescue his damsel in her moment of distress. Come, fair lady, and together we shall see you adorned in fine regalia."
Before she could respond, they heard laughter from the table. The elderly woman keeping an eye on it was chuckling at them, her eyes teary.
"Oh, you two are an adorable couple," she said, causing the pair to blush. "Mister Hero, would you mind allowing this old shopkeep a word with you?"
He only nodded, stepping around the table to her side. At her beckon, he leant forward. She gently pulled his ear close to her and whispered something. What she had to say was short, and when she was finished, he straightened, eyes wide and a goofy, happy grin on his face.
"Are you sure?" When she nodded, he turned to Sweetie Belle. "It took some doing, but I have successfully haggled the shopkeep to a reasonable price. The mystical pendant is yours, M'lady."
He leant into her ear and whispered, "It's half the tag. Do you have enough?"
Sweetie Belle did not respond. She merely handed her cash to the woman, mumbling an embarrassed thanks.
A small part of her found his choice of descriptive wording ironic as it reminded her of why she had been eyeing that particular necklace, which forced a giggle from her. She thought it a pity she could never share the full reason of her good humour as she allowed Button to place the necklace on her, the clasp for which he only fumbled twice.
"You two make sure to treat each other well," their benefactor requested as they left.
"We will," they replied in unison, then called a jinx on each other. Sweetie Belle was unsure after the fact if it was a good idea - since she knew quite well that jinxes were real - but she also did not have magick. With a final shared laugh, they departed to find the wayward Crusaders.
The search was not long. They found Scootaloo mock-swooning into Apple Bloom's arms, both girls hiding behind an armoire to watch the "adorable couple." They at least had the prudence to look guilty when they were caught.
Their band reunited after a withering glare from Sweetie Belle and chatted amiably as they wandered, since there was little remaining for them to explore. When they saw a little girl enjoying an ice cream cone, Sweetie Belle's stomach rumbled. Not only was she hungry, but she was certain she could hear the baby clamouring for something to eat as well. Her friends insisted upon purchasing a large cone for her, splitting the cost of three scoops of ice cream.
Very little caught their interest over the rest of the day. Nothing else was foggy, so Sweetie Belle assumed that she had found the correct item. It did make her think the baby would be a girl, but she knew of many boys who wore jewellery, and the necklace was sufficiently neutral to fit either gender. How a pendant would help to protect her baby was something to discern later. She made a mental note to ask Midnight when they saw each other at the next Consilium Forum, as there was no way to ask about magick with all of her Sleeper friends next to her.
The end of the day saw the mother-to-be dressed for bed, her new necklace neatly laid on the dresser she shared with Sunset. They also shared a bunk bed, the lower mattress wider and flush to the wall for the nights to come when Sweetie Belle would be able to sleep with her baby on the bed next to her.
Love Tap had called it "co-sleeping" when she mentioned the idea and had assured them that it was perfectly safe, something she and Chip had done with their sons. Sweetie Belle looked forward to it; a romantic part of her mind found the idea of becoming close to her child by sleeping together sublimely wonderful.
She was also habitually worried that the baby crying would drive Sunset insane. Even if her friend insisted that she was there to help for the long term, Sweetie Belle felt that she was punishing her caretaker.
Despite the heavy thoughts, sleep claimed the young teen quickly. Though she had read that nearly any stage of pregnancy could be accompanied by sleeplessness, she had not yet encountered it, for which she was thankful.
At some point, she found herself in a field. In the distance, what appeared to be a city of graceful towers set on a hill was bathed in warm, colourful light. As gorgeous as the city was, Sweetie Belle found watching the sky far more interesting. Brilliant streams of colour danced, the stars twirling as the sun and the moon moved across the sky, everything like a perfectly rehearsed ballet. The phases of the moon were familiar, shifting rapidly as it chased the sun. Though she must have been watching years passing in moments, the seasons did not change as quickly as they should have. They were all present, but they did not seem harsh; the summer was not overly bright, and the winter had only a few light snows with no ice or howling winds. Rain was gentle and warm, without lightning or thunder to invoke the primal terror of nature.
The city grew as she stood and watched. After many years of the celestial dance, during which the city's towers continued to reach ever closer to the sky to the point that they were encroaching on it, a ladder that seemed to be a rainbow ascended from it, soaring above the towers to touch the heavens. A great beam of light accompanied it, out-shining whatever was illuminating the city. Something like a spear of luminescent power blazed up the ladder, vanishing from her sight. The stars had raced through their dance at least a few times more before a few additional lights pursued the first, though none of the followers were nearly as dazzling.
The world shook as the sky's waltz lost its time. It was as though the millions of stars had stumbled as one and were completely at odds with the celestial music. The aurora faded, its colours turning to sickly shades of a once-vibrant rainbow.
Hundreds of lights plummeted from the sky, falling to the Earth like shooting stars. As each one impacted, the ground shook. The vibrations caused much of the city to shatter, many of the beautiful towers crumbling.
A massive star, far greater in its effulgence than the others that was obvious despite the distances between them, landed directly on the city. A few of the city's inhabitants combated its frenzied movements as they constrained it in pulsing ribbons of light. The leviathan's struggles were ultimately futile as they successfully bound it within the last intact tower.
When their battle was done, the stars abandoned their dance, the aurora faded, and the greater orbs settled into a semi-alternating pattern that ensured they would sometimes share the sky. The seasons became more extreme as they ended their gradual, mild shifts to embrace merciless heat and cold.
With a final tremor, the rainbow ladder shattered as the city collapsed on itself, only the single tower that contained the fallen star remaining intact. Even the mountains that once hosted it were not immune to the chaos; they crumbled as new, more rugged ones replaced them, the entire skyline altered in an instant that must have been years. The falling peaks buried the city and its people.
Only a small fraction of the population escaped the city's destruction. They limped from the wreckage, some of them pausing to shake their fists at the sky before dispersing in small groups to travel into the world.
A voice echoed across the world, yet none of the travellers seemed to hear it.
"What rises must fall. What has fallen may rise again."
Sweetie Belle woke with a start. Her pillow was damp. Checking her face, she felt wet cheeks, tears still leaking from her eyes. She felt a peculiar sense of loss, as though that city had been her own.
Suddenly overcome by a pang of worry in the form of a keen sense of abandonment, she peeked over the edge of the upper bunk. Sunset Shimmer was sleeping there, comfortably sprawled across her mattress. Seeing her peaceful face comforted the younger girl, who lay back on her own bed.
Sleep returned for her, but she did not notice it until she woke, for she had no further dreams. The early morning sun coaxed her from slumber's grasp.
That morning was quiet. Sunset had a study session with Pearl. It was summer break, which left Sweetie Belle alone in the flat. Though she was welcome to observe the lessons, she feared that her presence would presage some tragedy - which seemed to be common whenever she tried to do something, even if it were to sit quietly.
It was Sunday, so Apple Bloom and her family would be at church. Scootaloo would be sleeping until she was good and ready to wake. Button Mash tended to be the same way; she giggled at the thought of him sleeping, sprawled across one of his gaming consoles. It was just as well that the Crusaders were not free; at five months of pregnancy, Sweetie Belle knew she needed to avoid strenuous activity. They had shown remarkable consideration for her, which meant that she was taking away their fun, so they would happier without her holding them back.
She decided to go for a walk. The farm was enormous, allowing for rows of corn and grains to neighbour groves of fruits and fields of vegetables. All of it except a small patch near the house was commercial, attended by a small army of field hands and Pearl herself most days. Even during bad seasons, the farm seemed to do well. Officially, it was the love Pearl gave her land. Unofficially, as Sweetie Belle understood it, generations of Awakened had maintained a nexus of ley lines that resonated with Life magick.
All of the farm hands seemed to like having the teens living at the property. They welcomed both, happy to show off their labour to young people. Most of them were of Latin descent and spoke little English, but language was not a barrier to the pride they displayed in their work.
Thorough research followed by confirmation from her gynaecologist showed that certain types of exercise had profound benefits on pregnancy. As such, the girl was free to help with the work if she felt so inclined, so long as she followed the guidelines established. Though no one had said it, she knew her doctor and the adults were concerned about her upcoming delivery, something about her body shape. If she had any one especial fear, it was that her child would come to harm, so she threw herself into anything her doctor assured would help. He had called her one his best patients for her willingness to listen and to follow directions.
The staff were delighted to see her and greeted her warmly when she approached. They were harvesting the early ripened tomatoes and invited her to join them. She hoped that even she could not fail at such a task, accepting with some trepidation. They provided her with a stool and work gloves, then took turns accompanying her across the row.
Sweetie Belle had not known that tomatoes, one of her favourites, grew on a plant that was toxic to humans. Touching the stems of the leaves exposed one's skin to the poison, leaving most itchy and perhaps with a minor rash for the more sensitive. Sunset turned out to be especially allergic; she admitted that equines were particularly susceptible to the chemical, which must have accompanied the teen from her native form. No one wanted to test what would happen to her or to the baby if Sweetie Belle touched the plants, so she had to wear gloves at all times. The staff kept a pair available for her, which they washed for her whenever she used them.
The morning passed quickly. At lunch, she decided to go back to the house and check on her caretakers. The workers would be taking theirs in the shade of one of the barns. Before she departed, they invited her to return if she had time.
A walk past the herb garden was her favourite part of any stroll. It smelt like a kitchen, the many scents blending into an olfactory pleasure. Even when she had just eaten, traipsing in the vicinity would leave her feeling hungry.
It was there, amongst the breeze tinged by basil and rosemary, that she heard the disembodied voice.
"Such potent magick," the voice, a deep tenor like Big Mac's, said. "Even as I am, I can sense it. The local lord is wise and powerful."
"Who's there?" Sweetie Belle called, looking about herself. She was startled, but had grown used to such things over the years. The voice had been so close as to sound in her ear, yet no one was present. That only slightly narrowed the many possibilities of what she had encountered.
"You are able to discern my words? It has been many years since I have been audible to one of the living."
"You're a ghost?"
"I am. Give me a moment, please; I have not attempted to materialise since before your ancestors rediscovered the secret of metalworking."
A man blinked into existence, standing just before Sweetie Belle. He was tall, at least to Big Mac's height, though he lacked the broad body of the farmer. Instead, he was slightly plump and carried himself in a way that made Sweetie Belle think he had lived in a time when such a build was a sign of wealth. His skin, hair, and clothes were pure white and semi-translucent, though her experience with the dead had not led her to expect a ghost to have colour. He wore a tunic that reached just to his knees and was secured by a leather belt. The lines of his face marked him as having been late-middle-age in life, though her few interactions with ghosts had shown that the self-aware ones could sometimes modify their appearances.
"Greetings, youth. Are you one of the servants here?"
"No, I just live here. None of the farms around here actually have any servants."
"Then the labourers are freemen?"
The word tickled a memory from her history class. "We don't use serfs or slaves anymore. When did you, uh, become a ghost?"
The man laughed. "I doubt the date would mean anything to you." He leaned close to her, observing her face. "How is it that you can hear me? I sense no aspect of the Supernal within you."
"I'm what's called a Sleepwalker. I'm not Awakened, but I can still be around magick."
"That should mean little for my purposes. How is it that one not Blessed can interact with me? Even the failures of my era could not comprehend an existence such as mine. You should only be a null consideration in a Working, a servant, nothing more."
The girl bristled. She knew she did not count for much, but his casual dismissal reminded her of her family.
"Failure?"
"We did not have a differentiation of non-Mages in my era. Either one was Blessed to wield the might of the Realms Supernal or one was not and became a servant. Of course, we were not subject to the Lie then as you are now."
"Times have changed," Sweetie Belle growled.
"So I see. Would you be willing to listen to this old ghost tell you a story from his life?"
She about to give him a hostile retort, but something in his voice gave her pause. He sounded lonely, sad. If he had been dead for a long time, no one else hearing him for centuries, she could forgive his abrasive words. She had a thought of a little girl's pleas for her sister or her parents to pay attention to her falling on deaf ears.
"I'm getting lunch now. Will you tell me while I eat?"
He nodded, then followed her to the flat. Sunset and Pearl must have been eating in the library, assuming they had even noticed the time, as neither was present. That worked for Sweetie Belle, as she did not care to explain why they had company. Too many of her acquaintances had a tendency to want to devour Mages specifically.
She ate lightly: A sliced apple and a sandwich. Rather than begin his story, her companion watched her. He seemed a bit jealous as the apple crunched in her teeth.
Not wanting another lecture about the woes of being a spectre, Sweetie Belle gave her name, then asked, "What's your name?"
His response must have been High Speech. The words could not have been regular language. It was impossible for the girl to repeat, so she replied, "I can't speak High Speech. Do you mind if I call you Mike?"
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "If you must. Tell me, though, what is this 'High Speech'?"
"My Awakened friends said it's the language of magick. Something about symbols and portents, I think? I saw a lot of runes once, but that might've been something else. Then again, Sun- uh, Sparky's grimoire has a page that looks like one of my grade two art projects, so I guess it doesn't-"
"Do you normally babble so?"
Had his tone been anything other than jovial, Sweetie Belle would have stormed into the library and asked her caretakers to banish "Mike." Instead, she reminded herself that he was from a different time and needed to learn how to speak politely.
"I guess my friends do say I can talk a lot, but they're usually not being mean when they do. The bullies usually are mean, but they finally turned nice, so they don't say it anymore ... and I'm not really helping, am I?"
Mike chuckled. "Even for one of the living, you are uniquely full of life. I do not include the child growing in your womb in that assessment."
"You know?"
"I may be a remnant, but I was Priest."
"What's that? I'm guessing you don't mean something like a Catholic priest?"
He shook his head, then sat - somehow - in the chair across from her. "I was one of the Blessed, selected to wield the Supernal power of the Realm of Aether. My childhood was spent in training to serve my Empire as a voice of the ancient gods.
"You would not recognise my homeland, even should I possess a method with which to create a map for you. Nothing of it remains now."
"How long ago did you live?"
"That is a question without a simple answer. Perhaps you will understand as I continue."
Though ghosts did not breathe, Mike's body generally moved as it would if he had been made of flesh rather than ephemera. He took a deep breath - in a sense - and continued.
"As I grew, I moved up the ranks of the Priests. When I was merely forty years - hardly past my youth - I had already risen to a position beside the Emperor himself. In your language, he could have been named The Tyrant, though I fear your word has little direct relation to our own. He was a mighty ruler, the greatest Emperor we had ever known. Under his reign, our nation became greater than it had ever been.
"Not content with ruling in the mundane world, he gathered us, his loyal followers, and we wove the Ladder to Heaven. It crossed all realms to touch the Supernal itself. He Ascended in all his power to seize the world.
"We were not the only people to create a way to Ascend to the peak of creation. Others joined The Tyrant, all seeking to expand their dominion over reality. I remained below, as was my duty, ready to serve my Emperor.
"A terrible war for control of the Realms Supernal began. The Ascended battled against the old gods, casting them down to the world. Others sought to follow our Emperor and his peers, either wishing to join them or seeking to prevent their rule."
Mike paused, leaning back on his chair. He looked weary, as though he had been fighting in the war he remembered. After a moment of rest, he leaned forward again and continued.
"We knew little of their struggles, our knowledge of Ascended matters as that of insects attempting to comprehend humans. None of us conceived that their battles, so far removed from our plane of existence, would affect us. We did not understand that gods need not battle on the world's surface to destroy it.
"The Material Plane is merely a darkened mirror image of that higher realm. A war there cast terrible reflections across our world and all the others below the Supernal. The foundations of the Earth trembled under their struggles. The sky was torn, and magick began to fade. Over the years, no new Blessed came into being, we existing Blessed alone carrying forward the power to alter the world.
"One day, The Tyrant spoke to me in my sleep, ordering that I bind one of the old gods. He had overcome it and planned to cast it down to the Material Plane. Binding it would ensure that it would be unable to Ascend and to challenge my Emperor. I assembled the other Priests and did as I was told, performing the most terrible Working of my life. It stole much of my power, but I succeeded in forcing the old god into our temple, where it would remain.
"In its final moment, it cursed me. I was sundered from the world, cast into this form and bound to my amulet. I was forced to watch as the end of the war shattered reality itself.
"Our ancient city was razed, our people dead or scattered across the face of the Earth. Our knowledge was almost completely lost, and the Realms Supernal broke their tethers from what had become a Fallen world.
"Even that was insufficient punishment for our hubris. Time itself forgot us, rewritten so that we had never existed. Mere fragments escaped, but they were buried under the terrible Lie of a new world.
"I cannot recall many of the years that followed. The life I once had seems to me now a vivid dream. Each time I awoke, the world seemed to have changed yet again, as you - our descendants - built new societies that were but pale echoes of a lost past."
Sweetie Belle felt tears trickle from her eyes. "I'm so sorry. You lost everything, and now you're having to remember it by telling me."
Mike stood, moving to her side, where he laid a hand on her shoulder. How he could touch her was a mystery, but she felt ashamed that he was comforting her after recounting such a sad story.
"We brought about our own end. The Tyrant chose to Ascend, seeking dominion over all. We could have refused him, but we did not. We were certain that the path we chose was the correct one, failing to see what could happen when humans - even the Blessed - sought to reach beyond their stations."
"Still, I feel bad for you. Is there something I can do to make you feel better?"
"It seems to me that you are in far more need of comfort than I, but if it will assuage your tears, I do have a method you can use to help me."
She stood. "What is it?"
"I wish to rest. Not the sleep in which I have been engaged all these years, but a true rest in which I may pass from this world. I cannot do it yet, however. You must reunite my amulet and make it whole."
"Where's the other half?"
"I do not know."
At her crestfallen face, Mike quickly added, "But I can assist you in finding it. My amulet contains my echo, which wishes to be whole. A little magick will allow it to show you the way."
The girl slumped. "I can't use magick. I'm just a Sleepwalker."
Mike placed a hand on her shoulder again. "Do not demean yourself. We would not be speaking here were you without some power of your own. Allow me to assist you, and we will succeed."
"Okay."
Leaning his head against hers, Mike began to fade. Sweetie Belle felt a strange tickle in her mind, which she allowed to overtake her. Mike vanished, his voice speaking from inside her.
'We must brew a potion. Because my amulet echoes with my resonance, we should not need anything powerful.'
'Okay, tell me what to do,' she thought to him.
They entered the library together. Midnight had once commented that Pearl's private library and workspace were the envy of nearly all other Awakened in the city. It helped that the farmer was older than she looked, so she had far more years behind her than most to establish herself. As a result, the entire basement was given to every arcane trapping imaginable. Books and scrolls were a significant portion, but she also kept tools, cauldrons, stones, candles, inks, and sundry other items Sweetie Belle was unable to name. A large space to the side was where she drew glyphs and sigils, pentagrams and runes for rituals cast from one of her many grimoires.
Both of her caretakers were seated at a desk. Pearl was gesturing to a page in a relatively small tome, Sunset nodding as she listened.
"Remember that a dedicated tool's the best, but it ain't everythin'. Ya need ta be thinkin' of what the Imago represents, 'n then pick the best tool fer the Willworkin'."
She paused, looking at the stairs, where Sweetie Belle was listening. "Ya need us, hayseed?"
"I just wanted to see if you guys had lunch yet."
"Aw, shucks, Ah plum lost track of time. Thanks fer the reminder. That's all fer today."
The girl could hear joints popping as both women stretched. They immediately headed to their respective kitchens, their stomachs rumbling. While the adults ate, Sweetie Belle perused the shelves of potion ingredients. Mike whispered to her, suggesting that she take a couple pink flower petals and a bit of a black powdery substance.
They needed only one other ingredient: A stick used as a divining rod. Plain water found with it would serve as the base. Thanks to having Mike sharing her mind, neither took very long to acquire. It was only early afternoon, after Sunset had gone out to visit Pinkie Pie, when they deposited their potion components in a pan on the range.
When it boiled, Sweetie Belle heard Mike speaking more words of High Speech. Though he did not use her mouth, the potion responded. It changed from a roiling pot of water with random items floating in it to a bright yellow viscous fluid. Stirring it counterclockwise with the dowsing rod shifted the colour to a green a few shades darker than Sweetie Belle's eyes.
She dipped the amulet in it, allowing the stone to soak until the potion's colour faded. When she removed it, the amulet appeared the same and was only mildly warm. She could feel it pulling at her when she placed it about her neck, despite the fact that it did not move.
'Follow the directions it gives you. This spell should last for a year, so you have time,' Mike said. 'If you are willing, it might be safer for me to remain here than to materialise again.'
'Why's that?'
'Certain people seem to believe that all ghosts must be laid to rest, forcefully so if we do not agree to it. I prefer to wait until we find the missing segment of my amulet.'
As she had nothing else to occupy her afternoon, Sweetie Belle mounted her bicycle and began following the guidance of the amulet. While highly unlikely she would find the missing piece that day, she could make some progress. She hoped she could get some idea of where she might have to go. Just because she had stumbled on one part of it in the city did not mean the rest was even in the same country, but it gave her something to do that even she could not botch.
The tug led her along the road from Pearl's farm, away from Sweet Apple Acres. Most of the rural area was used by corporate farms, extending well into the county. She had not even been riding for an hour when the direction changed, leading her toward the city.
'Isn't it just going to point in a straight line?' she asked.
'Had I used only the Space Arcanum, it would, but I included Fate in the Working. It will guide you along paths whenever possible and attempt to avoid anything dangerous.'
'Oh, thanks.'
'You need not thank me. What good would losing my only vehicle do?'
They passed an old cemetery, where the direction changed again. Instead of pointing into the graveyard as she would have expected, it wanted her to cross the street to a big old Victorian-style house. A notification on the front door showed that it was condemned.
'You do not repair your constructions?' Mike asked.
'We do as much as we can, I guess, but nothing lasts forever. It's not like we have magick to make them last.'
'That is a pity. While I prefer the form used in my city, that one would have been a pleasure to see in its prime.'
'What did your city look like?'
'I would be pleased to describe it to you at a later time. For this moment, move around the building and see if the amulet continues to target it.'
The neighbourhood seemed unoccupied, which made Sweetie Belle mildly uncomfortable. Stories of people vanishing when they wandered into the old parts of town were common around a campfire, and she had more reason than most to believe such tales. Still, she had Mike with her, so she was not completely at the mercy of anything that might find her.
No matter where she stood, the amulet pointed at the house. With a sigh, the teen tried the back door. It opened easily, even if it did screech like a lost soul being eaten by a starving banshee.
At that point, she wondered if perhaps she really did have an overactive imagination.
Whoever last lived in the house had left without taking any possessions. Rotten furniture remained on guard in the many rooms, not one piece covered. An enormous dining table still had most of the table cloth, mounted by what appeared to be pure gold-clad candlesticks. Dusty mirrors nevertheless showed the girl her own wide-eyed reflection. Cobwebs occupied every corner, their makers nowhere to be seen.
It was the perfect creepy house for the girl currently playing host to a shade. If they were lucky, Mike would be the only ghost, but Sweetie Belle was never that fortunate. She hoped whatever they did encounter would not want to eat her.
She followed her guiding necklace up the stairs, to the back of the hall, and into the master bedroom. Creaking floorboards accompanied her steps. There, she found an old jewellery box. Within was the other half of the amulet, a waning moon that would form a perfect circle with the part she wore.
"Oh, come on," she shouted. "All that build-up to find it just sitting out?"
She grabbed it and turned to exit the house when she heard voices from downstairs. They sounded like two women and a man. She first wondered if they were ghosts, but then she heard their footsteps as they approached the stairs.
If not for the squeaky floors, Sweetie Belle might have tried hiding. It would be too much to hope that they had not heard her exclamation. Indeed, it seemed they either had heard her or else had randomly decided to search the house.
'I don't suppose you have any magick that can help us?' she asked.
'The potion used what little Mana I had accumulated.'
Sweetie Belle grasped a post from the bed and wrenched it loose, wielding it like a club. She stood ready, waiting to face whoever was coming. Finally, the visitors entered the room.
One of the women was young, a few years older than Sunset. The other, who led them into the room, was probably in her late thirties. The man was somewhere between the two and looked to be related to the younger woman. All three wore black windbreakers over white wife-beaters. The younger woman also obviously lacked a brassiere. The older woman had a long scar running along one side of her neck.
"What do we have here?" the man asked, all three staring at Sweetie Belle.
"A little thief," the younger woman said. "The dead don't like it when people take their things. You should put back whatever you've taken and leave before they ask us to punish you."
"Who said I took anything? If I wanted stuff, I'd have taken those candlesticks. Teenagers love exploring haunted houses. Didn't you know?"
"It claims to be a teen," the older woman said. "Methinks it's lying."
"Check out the baby bump. She's just a little tramp looking for trinkets to sell."
"Give that necklace back to its owner, kid."
Sweetie Belle put one hand over her pendant. "I am giving it back. Mike?"
He sighed, but left her mind to take form in front of her. "This girl is assisting me. If you care for those of us no longer amongst the living, cease impeding us, Sin-Eaters."
They all wore expressions of surprise.
"That's an old one," the man observed. "What's he doing here?"
"Reclaiming what was mine in an age you cannot fathom, child. Begone from my sight."
"It shouldn't speak to my crewe like that," the older woman said, anger writ across her face. "We help the dead to their next lives, not whelps like that one you use now."
"Unite the pieces," Mike ordered.
While the Sin-Eaters were still parsing his words, Sweetie Belle held both parts of the amulet together, joining them. The grey gems coupled to counterparts on the larger piece, forming a full moon. The etched lines filled with golden light, forming a design that made no sense to Sweetie Belle's mind. The grey gems vanished as the seam filled itself, leaving only a perfect circle.
"Ah, I forgot: I used my amulet as the key to the seal binding the ancient god. We should perhaps ensure it has not escaped."
"What do you mean?" the younger woman asked. "Seal? Ancient god?"
"Mike's from the Time Before," Sweetie Belle replied. "You know, when magick was common, and the Awakened ruled the world. I'm sure you guys have heard of the Awakened, right? Even I've heard about Sin-Eaters. Aren't you the guys with one foot in the grave or something like that?"
"If you know of us, then you know that it's not your place to be associating with the dead."
"If they come to me of their own free will, I'll do what I can to help them. Mike was a really powerful Mage, and I'm with them, so I think I'm more qualified here."
"Indeed. Were I to require aid in dealings with the Kerberoi, I would call for Sin-Eaters. What I seek to confront is Supernal."
"I don't think you wanna deal with whatever he trapped."
Though they glared at her, the Sin-Eaters left. One of them muttered something about lacking the plasm to deal with the situation. Mike applauded her.
"Now that we have resolved this minor problem, let us visit the temple and ensure the ancient god has not been freed."
"Wait, you were serious about that?"
Despite how long the day had felt so far, it was only mid-afternoon. While the days were still getting longer, Sweetie Belle had several hours of sunlight remaining. Dinner was not until seven, and Sunset trusted her, so there was no reason to rush back to the farm.
Instead, Sweetie Belle was on her bike again, pedalling toward the river valley. The city was built astride a wide river, which had excavated a deep channel for itself. Several areas had small caves, most of those hardly more than slight blemishes in the banks. Mike assured her that the amulet would open a path to the fallen temple, and that they needed only a deep place to start the journey. The caves had been her idea.
When they reached the upper banks, Sweetie Belle declared a break. So far, she had avoided strenuous activity, but too much of the safe exercises would also be dangerous. She lowered herself to the grass, taking advantage of a small copse of trees to get out of the sun. The day was pleasant, but even non-taxing bicycling had made her sweat. The baby did not help; Sweetie Belle felt as though she had a slight fever at any time, to the point that Sunset had lowered the temperature of their thermostat.
She was preparing herself to stand when she heard something rustling in a bush. Glancing at it, she called, "Hello?"
A cat popped from the bush, strolling directly to Sweetie Belle. It was pure black and rather small, though it held itself with the pride of being a cat. It sat next to her and rubbed its body against her leg.
"Aw, you are adorable," she said, scratching its head. The cat purred in response. "I'm sorry, I don't have any snacks or treats to give you."
Mike knelt on the cat's other side. "This cat is not what it appears to be. I feel a power unlike my own from it."
"The cat's not a cat?"
The cat yawned and stretched, then said, "I should've known that a girl with a ghost for a companion wouldn't fall for it."
"Hi, my name's Sweetie Belle. He's Mike. What's your name?"
Slitted pupils stared at her for a moment. "Usually, I get the 'You can talk?' line."
"Yeah, I'm kind of used to unusual things. Besides, you haven't attacked me, so I figure you must not be something mean."
"Or I'm trying to get you to put your guard down. Don't trust everything that has a cute face, girl." The cat jumped onto her lap, then rested a paw against her stomach. "Haven't you heard the legend of cats stealing a baby's breath?"
"Is that why you're here?" Mike asked.
Sweetie Belle moved the paw gently, placing a hand over her unborn child. "I won't let you hurt her."
"You do have some brains. No, I'm not into something like that. I'm the monster that grows to five times your size and eats you in one bite."
"You're lying," Sweetie Belle said. "You looked away when you said that. What do you want?"
With another yawn, the cat replied, "I'm bored. It's not like many people come here, after all, and most who do go running in terror when I start talking. Unless they're teenagers, then they try to hit me with rocks."
"I'm a teenager, you know."
"Yes, but you didn't bring alcohol or drugs, so I placed a bet on the fact that you wouldn't be malicious."
"Alright, well, if you're bored, why don't you go somewhere else?"
"And risk other things eating me? No, thank you. Even if I'm bored, at least I'm alive."
The cat eyed Sweetie Belle for a moment. "I have a proposition for you: Show me an adventure, and I'll tell you my name. If you know my name, you'll have control over me."
"What if I refuse?"
The cat's tail straightened, fur standing on end as narrowed eyes glared at her. "Then you find out what I do when I'm mad."
Sweetie Belle smiled, gingerly stretching a hand over the cat's head. She began petting it again as she said, "Let's go; I think I'll have something interesting for you."
They located a gradual slope, which Sweetie Belle tread carefully. A fall would hurt normally, but she also had a baby riding with her. Several minutes of careful sliding in the dirt - she was glad she had worn jean shorts rather than a skirt - left her at the banks, though she was rather dirty. Of course, her new companion had no difficulty in the descent, hopping from one safe outcropping to another and then waiting for her at the bottom. Mike just floated down the incline. Keeping to the rocky beach, she walked until she located a suitable cave. The entrance allowed her to stand upright, the interior extending down into the banks.
She walked into it, holding the amulet before her. Nothing was happening, though, her feet simply trudging along the dirt and stone. The cave was surprisingly deep, continuing into the darkness. She did not fancy the idea of being eaten by a grue, so she pulled her mobile from her pocket and selected the flashlight function. The bright LED light of the camera's flash illuminated her path.
Another ten steps, and the air felt cooler. Where before the day had been warm and mildly humid, now she wished she had a sweater. The air was dry and musty. Before she could comment on it, her light caught on a massive stone building in front of her.
The cavern housing it stretched into the darkness above her. Even the powerful light could not reach the top. The building occupied most of the space, its central compound once protected by large stone walls. Much of the walls had crumbled, but she could easily see where they had been. From the walls to the building's entrance was a distance nearly as long as the farm's drive.
The central building - also the only one that seemed to be fully intact - was a pinnacled tower. The levels reminded Sweetie Belle of the pagodas she had seen in drawings and photographs of traditional Asian buildings. Columns in a style she did not know by name surrounded it, each made of a what seemed to be a single block of white stone she did not recognise. At the top, Gothic spires formed several pinnacles about the central spire.
"Why are there so many different architectural styles here?" she asked.
"You copied your memories of our work or rediscovered it on your own. Also keep in mind that you are visiting a temple that never existed."
"But it's right there!"
"Where are we?" Mike asked, his voice indicating that he was explaining something of only mild complexity to a child.
Turning back to gesture at the tunnel that would lead them back to the river, Sweetie Belle found the path was gone. "Never mind. How do I get home?"
"The amulet will open the way for you again. We should proceed. Loosed gods wait for no man - or girl - to seek their revenge."
"Oh, you're hunting a god? This will be fun."
The cat had been so silent that Sweetie Belle had almost forgotten it was present. "Are you okay walking? Do you want to ride on my shoulders or something?"
An odd squeak escaped its mouth, which may have been laughter. "You're offering me a ride in your condition? Be careful that something doesn't take advantage of you one day. I'll be fine. Normal cats have decent night vision, but I can actually see perfectly well in the absence of light."
"Okay, let's go."
Girl, ghost, and not-cat began the march to the temple's entrance. They were unable to walk quickly; despite the brightness of Sweetie Belle's light, there were too many stumbling blocks on the route. Mike was unimpeded, and the cat was agile, but the girl needed time to sweep an area to locate safe places to tread. Neither of her companions objected to her slow meandering progress, pausing as needed for her to catch up to them.
When they finally reached the temple, they found the doors closed. A gentle push, however, opened them. Even after an unknowable amount of time had passed, the doors were silent as they moved; it was as if someone had greased the hinges only a day prior.
The interior was ornate bordering on the gaudy. Gold and silver filigree traced shapes like something from one of Pearl's grimoires. More smooth white stone columns supported the arched ceiling, forming concentric rings. Murals and tapestries adorned the walls, stretching well beyond the scope of what had become an increasingly meagre source of light; the mobile's LED seemed almost sacrilegious in the face of the temple's glory.
"It is just as I remember it, if darker and with fewer people. I would suggest removing your shoes, lest we activate some of the old spells."
Sweetie Belle did as she was told, then removed her socks to place them in her boots. The stone was not cold, which surprised her. It was cool, but pleasantly so to her tired feet.
A few of the runes engraved in the walls lit in a gentle orange glow. Though she could not see or feel the magick, she did notice that her muscles were relaxing as though under the ministrations of the world's best masseuse. There was no sensation of someone touching her, only the weariness fading as even her mind felt sharper, more alert. The stone was becoming warmer as the magick soothed her tired body. It faded once she was refreshed, but the stone remained comfortable.
She examined the closest mural. It portrayed a man who was twice the height of his subjects. His crown looked very similar to the one used at her school's Fall Formal, except that the star had more points that were perfectly even. He stood atop a ziggurat, holding his sceptre aloft. The miniscule people grovelled before him. There was writing above the mural, this in a form Sweetie Belle could recognise as text, but not of any language she had ever seen - though she would be the first to admit that she was hardly familiar with many languages. The script was elegant, engraved into the stone.
"This is a portrait of our first Emperor, at the dawn of our nation. Even we had lost memory of his name by the time we carved this, and it was already ancient when I walked this temple. It was said that he had Ascended, and watched over us as a god."
"Are all of them portraits?"
"Yes, but no. Not all of the Emperors are enshrined here; we only recorded here those that we believed worthy of devotion. Others show great events from our history. The final one, which was never completed, was to commemorate the day we became the new gods."
"Your arrogance truly was without boundaries," another booming voice added.
Within the innermost circle of pillars, an enormous being began to take form. Its appearance heralded the return of light from invisible sources. It was as though the air of the room was a light, and the being's arrival had flicked the switch. As the god materialised, Sweetie Belle could see that it was in the form of a great winged dragon.
Bright red scales each far larger than her torso adorned its body. Slitted pupils like those of the cat at her side regarded them, their irises the deep orange of a flame. Each of its four legs ended in clawed hands, the claws longer than Sweetie Belle was tall.
"For what reason do the Fallen come to this place?" it asked.
Swallowing and fighting to keep a tremor from her voice, Sweetie Belle replied, "We came to check on you."
"Lies," it roared. One clawed hand slapped the floor, though the ground did not shake as Sweetie Belle had expected. "I see the key in your possession. If you have not come to end this binding, then you are here to ensure that I have not ended it myself."
"Yes, we wanted to make sure you hadn't escaped. That does count as 'checking on you,' though, so I didn't lie."
Rather than respond, the god swept one foreleg beyond the pillars and grasped Sweetie Belle. She could not scream as it lifted her to its face, only trembling as she clutched the amulet in one hand and placed her other over the baby. When she was before its eyes, it opened its hand and allowed her to collapse on its palm.
"Are you going to kill me?" she asked, no longer bothering to hide the fear. This was not like when had met Moe, the burly ogre that guarded the highway underpass from something. Moe had been only too happy to speak with her, pleased at having a human show interest in him.
The god tilted its head one way and then the other before squinting. "Why would your master send a child to verify my bonds? Does he not believe me worthy of his presence? Speak, brief mortal, before I crush you."
"I don't have a master," she replied, her voice cracking as she stressed the 'have.' This particular misunderstanding was getting old. "I came here when Mike told me about you, about what the amulet does."
"Why would you seek me? Do you wish to end your existence?"
"No, I wanted to make sure you weren't still mad about the whole 'being bound for an aeon' thing. If you were, I wanted to make sure you couldn't get out and kill my friends in revenge. I really love them, and watching an old god eat them or something would make me sad."
"I will.... You are serious." The god stared at her for a moment. "You are not Blessed; you cannot contain me. What will you offer me to protect your friends?"
"I don't have much. You can have my computer, if you want, but it might be a little small for you. I could give you my mobile, but I kinda need the light to see, and it'd probably be too small, too. Do you want gold? I can probably get you some, if I ask Sunset and Twilight. How about incense or an offering? Pearl has some cattle; I don't know if she'd be willing to give up a young bull, but maybe she has an older one. Of course, she wouldn't want the world to end, so she'd probably give me a young one. I don't really know how to sacrifice a bull, but Mike was a Priest, right? He'd be able to tell me what to do. Then again, as much as I like steaks and burgers, I don't think I'd be able to kill something. I guess could try to do it if it would save my friends. Is it okay if I don't do it perfectly? I don't think I could pronounce any High Speech for the ritual, would that be a problem? Oh, I know, would you accept an effigy? I'm not good at art, but I'm sure one of my friends could make-"
"Be silent, loquacious transient," the god shouted. It did not use the full might of its voice, but the vibrations still knocked the girl to her arse. "Your incessant din is unparalleled; your voice is like the eunuch choir boys of old. I will end my suffering and tell you what to offer: Give me the child that calls your womb its home."
Sweetie Belle wrapped both arms across her stomach as she whispered a firm, "No." Speaking louder, she said, "You can't have her."
"You would defy me, impotent strumpet? Do you wish to see your loved ones suffer?"
Her anger gave her the strength to stand. She faced the god's eyes, summoning what reserves of courage she could find. "I don't want to see anyone suffer, you pompous, arrogant twit!"
"How dare-"
"Can it, you overgrown lizard. I'm not giving you my baby. She's mine, and I love her more than anything. No, I don't want you to hurt my friends or anyone else. Even my family doesn't deserve it, and they're probably my least favourite people right now.
"I'm not worth much; I know that. I'm clumsy and airheaded, and I know my voice gives people headaches sometimes. I don't know why my friends are my friends. Yeah, you're big and strong; I know I'm nothing next to you, but I don't care." Her voice had climbed octaves as she spoke, until even the god was wincing. She punctuated her final three words by stomping one foot on the hand that held her.
She continued, her voice returning to the normal human vocal range. "But you know what? Even as useless as I am, I do have friends. Friends who care about me: Silly, stupid Sweetie Belle. Even if we fight sometimes, we always make up and become even better friends than we were before.
"Do you know what that's like? To have people who love you? That you love back? People who'll give up what they want to make you happy and never ask for anything in return? It can even take someone useless like me, and it makes us strong. They'll have my back, and I'll have theirs, even if all I can give them is a song and a hug.
"If you hurt me or my baby, that'll just make my friends more resolute. I'm the most pathetic of my kind.
"So go ahead, go after them. They won't just run away. They'll fight you, and they'll be strong 'cause they'll be fighting you together."
The small human girl glared at the god. Behind her gaze dwelt all the pain caused by years of abuse; the anger her family's actions had wrought were embedded in her soul. She gasped for air as she came down from the high of venting a part of her rage. With every dam broken, she could no longer control her emotions and collapsed, sobbing into her hands.
None spoke as she trembled, her feelings of impotence at not only the current situation, but every moment of her life, crushing her. Some part of her knew that it was the worst possible time to be crying, but it could not stop the bitter tears running down her cheeks. That part of her and those around her had to wait until she reined in control of her emotions. When she finally settled, the tears abated, she sat on her knees and spoke again, keeping her voice clear.
"Why are so many of you beings so terrible? I know the ancient people did something awful, but I had nothing to do with it. None of us alive now did. If you'd give us a chance, instead of wanting revenge, you'd find some really great people out there who'd be your friends and help you because they're your friends. Sure, there are some bad humans, maybe even a lot, but not everyone is."
She thought of the good people she knew, and all they had done. She had to suppress rising emotion again lest it overwhelm her fragile control. Pausing to take a few calming breaths, she continued.
"Scootaloo reached out to me when I didn't have any friends and has protected me since we were in grade one. When I was locked up for being crazy, she came and visited me almost every weekend, even if that meant she didn't get to do fun stuff. Apple Bloom never has a mean word for anyone. Midnight is a sweet little girl who loves her brothers, but she's also a crazy-powerful Witch who'll hex anyone that hurts the people she cares about. Pearl and Ace and Clash are kind and generous, even though they have lots of stuff on their minds. Sunset spent years being a worse monster than anything I've ever met, but she changed and became one of the nicest people I've ever known and my friend, even though I was a monster to her. We aren't perfect, but we all try. We admit when we make a mistake and learn from it. Won't you give us a chance?"
The massive god - whom she had just insulted and subjected to a tirade - regarded her, its expression unreadable. Ever so slowly, its eyes softened.
"If you give me an offering, I will spare your world."
Thinking for a moment, Sweetie Belle decided on something. It was worthless, but so was she, so it suited her. She took a breath and began to sing. The song was sad, lonely, yet full of love and hope. As she sang "Auld Lang Syne," she put her voice classes to work by affecting a Scottish burr, enhancing the song's mournful tones. When she was done, she offered a bow.
"My offering to you, Old God of the Realms Supernal."
It nodded. "I accept your offering, and shall spare your kind my wrath. However, no mortal shall ever speak to a god as you have and remain unpunished.
"Therefore, let it be that forever more, until Time itself ceases to be and is forgotten, the fruits of your womb and their progeny shall never again know peace: Let them have the sight to know what others do not. So shall it be that they are hereby cursed to be as you, eternally cowering at the shadows, knowing themselves to be the least."
When its pronouncement was complete, Sweetie Belle could feel power coalescing about her, like how Sunset described the feeling of magick. It was odd, as though entering a room in which something had changed, but she could not see what it was. The moment passed, but the feeling of being altered remained.
Ignoring it, she said, "Wait, that's it? When you said 'curse,' I thought you meant something really terrible. I'm a little miffed that you thought you were punishing my children instead of me for something I did, but that's not so bad."
It lowered her to the floor in front of itself, allowing her to step from its hand. When she had retreated a few steps, it sat, regarding her curiously.
"You do not consider your abilities a curse?" the god asked.
"When I was little - well, littler than I am now, since I'll always be little to you - I kinda thought it was. Of course, I didn't know then that it was all real. I believed what everyone else told me: That I was crazy and needed help with lots of medicine. That was the real curse, being alone when you're like me.
"But I know better now. I met Sparky and Pearl, Ace, Midnight, Clash, and the rest. I know that I'm not mad. What's scarier than seeing monsters is not seeing them, since they can see us and want to eat humans for breakfast.
"My children," she rubbed her stomach, "this one and any others I might have, they won't have to think they're crazy. They'll have me to teach them. Now that you've made it so that they'll be like me, I can take them to meet my friends, the nice ... beings I've met. Maybe they'll be friends, too."
The old god laughed. Its good humour would have been sufficient to knock Sweetie Belle prone again, but she caught herself on a pillar, not wanting to smack into the hard stone of the floor.
"You are unique amongst the masses of flightless birds. You remind me of your ancestors, when they first left their trees and began to explore the world. Nothing deterred their courage; for each that fell, a score took its place. Their tenacity to persevere, the ability to discover and to learn drew our attention to them; it is the reason we Blessed them and uplifted them.
"But they turned against us. For all that we gave them, they wanted more. Tell me, could you be granted any singular wish, what do you desire?"
That was an easy question. Without hesitation, Sweetie Belle replied, "I just want to be a good mum, one that'll make my child happy and healthy."
"Sometimes, the thing you dream is the very thing that is already within your grasp. Can you not see it?"
"What do you mean?"
It smiled at her. "You will soar one day, tiny hellion. No, perhaps you are more a gallant, if unwitting, imp."
Eyes closed, face sorrowful, the ancient god seemed even older as it said, "Nothing remains to me. Even were I to break my bonds, I cannot return from whence I came, for it is no longer my home. I am neither so foolish as to believe that a world in which I have never existed would long sustain me. It is time that I depart, to discover what realm awaits fallen gods. Release my bonds, and you shall never know me again."
It opened its eyes again, then looked surprised to see tears running down Sweetie Belle's cheeks.
"Are you not pleased that the monster that threatened you and has cursed your child is vanquished in all but fact?"
"But we just met. We haven't even had a chance to get to know each other."
"You told me quite enough of yourself, little bird."
She chuckled through her tears. "I know I said it before, but I'm Sweetie Belle. What's your name?"
It sighed. "My name was spoken in the symbols of my home, by mouths that existed in the formless void. Now I am without one. Regardless, what purpose would it serve to you?"
"You can't be friends if you don't have something to call each other, even if it's not your real name. Do you mind if I give you one?"
"Very well."
For the first time since entering the fallen temple, Sweetie Belle smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Ted."
Despite being a ghost, Mike's hand meeting his face reverberated about the chamber.
The newly christened Ted returned the girl's smile. "I am pleased to meet you as well, Sweetie Belle. I shall hold fast your Name against any that would seek to use it to exert their will over you."
Striding forward, she offered her hand. "I'll always remember you, Ted. I ... hope that wherever you go next, you'll get to have a better and happier time than you did here."
Gingerly, Ted lowered a clawed hand until his thumb was within his new friend's reach. She rushed forward to wrap her arms around Ted's claw to offer him the first and last hug of their friendship.
"You spoke the truth, Sweetie Belle: No one moment defines all. Every action and each word shapes a story, their influence on the narrative inappreciable until later. Even my fall led me to something stunning. Thank you for sharing your friendship with one such as I."
When she released the once-scary claw, Sweetie Belle lifted the amulet.
"Thank you for being my friend. I offer your freedom to you. Good-bye, Ted, and may you be happy from now on."
He took the amulet, which grew to match his size. It began to glow, the light surrounding Ted's body. It faded in seconds, leaving nothing where once had stood an ancient god of a lost time. The amulet was floating in a beam of light, cast by a single red scale that lay at the centre of the room. It was a smaller one, only slightly wider across than Sweetie Belle's head. She approached them reverently, grasping both and hugging them.
"Mike, how do we get home?" she asked, turning to face her companions.
"Return along the path we took to the temple, then hold the amulet to the wall. It will open the way to the Fallen World."
She turned to leave, but paused when she saw that Mike was not joining her. He was looking at the temple, which was still bathed in light, his eyes not focused on their present surroundings. Even as she watched, his form was becoming less defined.
"Mike? Are you okay?"
"Yes, Sweetie Belle. Now that I am satisfied, I, too, am prepared to embrace the next realm."
The girl placed both of her treasures on the floor, then hurried to Mike's side. "I'm going to miss you."
He offered her a warm smile. "No matter where I find myself, I do not believe that I will be able to forget you. Thank you for aiding this old ghost." He opened his arms, having just the definition remaining to be able to touch her as he wrapped her in a hug. Sweetie Belle had expected it to be cold, maybe with a tingle along her spine or something, but it was not. Mike's hug was warm and comforting, exactly like one from any of her living friends. "Good-bye, Sweetie Belle."
She returned the hug, having only seconds before he was gone. "Good-bye, Mike."
The cat, who had been watching her without comment for so long, rubbed against her leg. Sweetie Belle chuckled, lifting it to cuddle in her arms.
"Are you leaving, too?"
"Hardly. You faced down a god. I'm staying by your side, and you won't be able to get rid of me." The cat placed its two forelegs on her shoulder, pulling its face to her ear. "I believe I owe you a name."
The cat whispered its True Name into Sweetie Belle's ear. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't share that. I don't fancy being a slave to anyone else."
"I won't. Do you mind if I give you something else?"
The odd squeaky sound escaped its mouth again. It had to be laughter. "Do as you will. I'm under your care now."
"Are you a boy or a girl?"
"Technically, I'm neither, but I tend to go by female when needed. You humans seem to associate it with me, anyway. Feel free to change it, though. It means little to me."
"No, I like thinking of you as a girl. I'm going to call you Karen, okay?"
"It's suitable. Thank you."
Shifting Karen to her shoulder, Sweetie Belle recovered her treasures and began picking her way back to the cavern wall. The light remained, making the return trip faster and easier. She felt mentally fatigued, but her body was still refreshed from the temple's magick.
She was unsure how long she had been underground as her mobile's clock had not changed. It had to be night, though, and she was feeling guilty for being out so late. Sunset would likely be panicking and would probably call all of their friends to help in finding the wayward teen. Sweetie Belle knew she would have many apologies to offer when she returned to her home.
Karen distracted her from those thoughts when she asked, "Hey, Sweetie Belle, did you mean all those things you told ... Ted?"
"Huh? Yeah, I really did want to be friends, and I am sad that he left already."
"No, I meant before that, when you were angry. Do you really feel worthless?"
Sweetie Belle nodded, lowering her head in shame. She related the story of the days living with her family and how she had failed them time and again, how her child had been the final nail in the coffin of their goodwill to her. She spoke of Anon-A-Miss, and how the young woman she had bullied nearly to suicide was now giving her a home. By the time she was finished, they were at the wall.
The amulet glowed, though not brightly, and the section of the wall they faced vanished, leaving a tunnel for their exit.
"You've made mistakes, and now you're learning from them and becoming a better person. Just like those friends you mentioned."
"I can't even compare to them."
Karen placed a paw on Sweetie Belle's cheek. "I think you'll understand one day. Still, your little one will be fortunate to have you for a mother."
The girl scoffed. "A mum that goes into a lost cave to make sure an ancient god isn't about to get loose, then yells at him while he's holding her in his hand. Yeah, I'm a great role model of what not to do."
Karen settled back onto her shoulder without another word.
As they approached the entrance, they saw light streaming into the cave. The sun was still in the sky, having barely moved since they last saw it. A check of the clock showed that they had been in the temple only a few minutes. Recounting the story of Anon-A-Miss had taken longer than what her mobile claimed. Verifying the date, it seemed that Time really had forgotten the lost temple. The only time that had passed was what it had taken to traverse the passage, nothing more.
How the god could have been imprisoned for an aeon and know it, yet be in a timeless prison, was too complicated for Sweetie Belle. As she was wont to do, she accepted it without further consideration, focusing her attention instead on the task of climbing back to her bike.
A burly man stood by it when she reached the top of the river cliff. Most would have been intimidated by his size and his gruff exterior, but Sweetie Belle knew better than to judge a book by its cover. She ran to his side, calling his name.
Clash turned, smiling. Relief was writ large across his face. "I thought I had your scent. What were you doing?"
"A lot of things. Are you free tonight? I wanna tell you guys all about it."
"I think so. Would you like a ride?"
Looking at her filthy clothes and dirt-caked skin, Sweetie Belle shook her head. "I don't want to make a mess in your truck."
"I ride in my truck after spending hours running and fighting in one or more of my forms. You have nothing to worry about. Come on."
He lifted her bicycle with one hand and carried it to his truck, effortlessly setting it into the back. He then opened the passenger door for her, even giving her a hand up into the cab. For having supposedly hosted a post-wolf Clash many times, it was as clean as she had always known it to be. Sweetie Belle could see the dirt she carried rubbing into the leather seats and cringed.
"I'll clean it up tonight," she promised. "After I take a shower." She knew she would have to clean the bathroom as well.
"I told you not to worry about it. I've got cleaning down to a ritual. It's like when the Awakened break out their grimoires, except not as magickal."
They arrived at the farm to find Sunset and Pearl in the yard, cooking dinner on the grill. The scent of steaks sizzling over the flame made Sweetie Belle's stomach growl. If the pressure she felt below her stomach was any indication, the baby was hungry, too.
Neither woman made any comment to the sight of a filthy Sweetie Belle climbing from the cab of Clash's truck. If anything, they would have been surprised to see her clean. Even without the inspiration and guidance of her two best friends, the girl always found a way to ensure that her laundry would need to be soaked before washing. They did notice the black cat riding on her shoulder.
"Ya make a new friend?" Pearl asked, nodding toward Karen.
"A few, actually. Do you mind if Clash and the others have dinner with us? I have a story to tell you."
"They're already coming over for the cookout," Sunset replied. "We're celebrating the end of the school year. Pinkie's already on her way."
Giving a mock glare to Clash, Sweetie Belle asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought you would enjoy the surprise."
As the sun embraced the horizon, its last rays shone on a small gathering of unusual people. Four Mages, a Werewolf, a Changeling, and a not-cat were seated together at a picnic table, listening seriously to a story that nearly anyone else would have dismissed as childish fantasy told by the only uninteresting person at the table.
Sweetie Belle tried to skip the details of her raging at a god, but Karen - perched on her lap most of the evening - showed no hesitation in revealing every embarrassing moment. The black cat hid only the self-deprecation as she recounted the exchange, then praised the girl's marvellous voice that had even soothed a terrible beast.
When the story was complete, everyone had something to say. Several minutes of responding to praise and recounting requested specific moments were interspersed with promises to be more cautious in the future. When they finally settled, Ace went to call the Hierarch to report the discovery.
"I don't understand why you didn't tell me," Sunset lamented. "Do you have any idea how worried I would have been if you didn't come home tonight?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't think it was going to be anything like that. Even when Mike talked about the god rampaging across the firmament and revelling in the lamentations of the broken, I didn't really believe him. Who knew a Supernal Being locked up for so long could be that powerful?"
"Always err on the side of caution when dealing with the supernatural," Clash replied. "I've lost too many pack-mates because they failed to show the appropriate respect for the unknown."
"We're just glad yer safe 'n sound, Hayseed."
Karen lifted her head. "Not one of you is concerned about that curse?"
"Didn't Sweetie Belle explain it? I agree with her; it's not so bad." Midnight replied.
Pinkie Pie was suddenly next to Sweetie Belle, leaning overly close to Karen, not that the cat seemed to care. "I just wanna know what one of The Bogeyman's servants is doing here. I'm giving you a chance for Sweetie Belle's sake, but I'm watching you, buster."
Midnight's eyes widened in surprise. They nearly sparkled as she asked, "You're an Arcadian? Are you one of the Moirae? an Anachronism?"
"I have no idea what those are. I'm just one of the Lesser Fae, but I got tired of serving The Bogeyman and left. I imagine that old monster was surprised when fourteen of its human slaves and one of its Lessers disappeared." Though Karen's face did not necessarily allow for it, they could all see the smile.
"Why'd you leave?" Pinkie asked. "I've never heard of anything like that."
"Oh, quite a few of us do, but not many get out. We're more bound to the masters than you humans can ever be, so they tend to notice. When I escaped, I figured you Lost wouldn't want to help one of your old captors. I've been living by the river since then, hoping The Bogeyman wouldn't find me. I discovered that comforting children's nightmares helps keep those mad eyes off me and them."
"What about the people you brought with you?" Sweetie Belle asked.
"I pointed them at the Freehold and disappeared. Let humans help humans."
Pinkie gasped. "You're the hero! I remember now: A whole bunch of people came back about thirty years ago on the first day of spring. They said that something had set them free and led them back through the Hedge. They still talk about you. We hear the story every year when the Fall Court takes power, since Fall Queen was one of them."
Little Karen tried to slink below the table, but Sweetie Belle wanted revenge for having her embarrassing story told previously. She lifted the cat onto the table's edge. Were it possible for a cat to blush, Karen would have done so.
"I got tired of the kids my master grabbed crying at his nightmares. I, uh, I guess I got to liking human children. It's why I approached Sweetie Belle; she still has some childishness remaining, but I could also feel another within her."
"Aw, why didn't you just tell me that you like kids in the first place?" Sweetie Belle gave her friend a hug, being careful not to squeeze her too hard. "Karen, you said you'd be with us, right? Will you promise to help keep my baby safe from things like your old master if you can?"
The not-cat gave a squeaky laugh again. "If that's what you want, then I will. It's not like I can disobey someone who knows my True Name."
"No, I don't mean it like that. I'd like you to stay because you're my friend. Sunset, Pearl, you don't mind if Karen stays with us, do you?"
"Any friend of yours is a friend of mine," Sunset replied.
"T'ain't like we're wantin' fer space."
Karen shrugged, which looked very odd but was still recognisable. "I guess you're stuck with me, then."
"I guess I am," Sweetie Belle replied, stroking her new friend's fur. She grinned at Midnight. "I didn't think about it until now, but your spell worked out a lot better than I could've hoped for."
THE END
