Chapters Chapter 2: More Questions Than Answers
Author's Note
Special thanks to Skitter for editing and everyone in fimfiction discord for their help and support. enjoy!
Chapter 2: More Questions Than Answers
Spirit Glider was the first of the three ponies to wake, which was typical of their little group. He stretched each limb, popping each joint as he did, including his wing joints. He climbed out of his recliner, and then stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, never noticing the letter on the floor even as he stepped on it with his back hoof. Spirit Glider sleepily went to the pantry doors in the kitchen. He raised his left forehoof up to open the doors to the pantry then violently ripped his shoulder away, as if the doors had been on fire. He yelped sharply as he pulled his . Spirit’s shoulder was still heavily bruised, and was even bleeding again. The bleeding wound was swollen, bright red against the blue tinge of ghost toxin, with some yellow pus dripping from the wound. He groaned, then set his hoof down before using his right hoof to open the pantry door instead. Next to the box of oats he had been planning on eating, were some bandages and “Mark Ointment”. Spirit Mirage and Quill were constantly misplacing medical supplies, which were fairly important in their line of work, so their solution was to just keep supplies everywhere.
Spirit Glider stood up on his hind legs to reach the bandages and ointment, then used his wing to squeeze some of the ointment into his hoof. Mark Ointment was medicine created a good fifty years or so go to combat the outdated medicines used before. It was far more effective at stopping minor Marks from spreading. It wasn’t a substitute for seeing a specialist medical pony, but it helped. Spirit Glider was a fairly fast healer though, and minor Marks usually went away after a few ointment treatments and some good food. Once he had the ointment on the wound, which stung horribly, he used his wing to try and hold one end of the bandage while clumsily trying to wrap the other end around his wound. After the third or fourth attempt, and failure, of trying to wrap the wound, he was about to give up. Suddenly, the bandage was covered in a lavender glow, then levitated up and wrapped itself around Spirit’s wound. A piece of fabric tape floated over, then stuck itself to the bandage to ensure said bandages wouldn’t fall off. Spirit watched the bandages move, before looking up to see Mirage standing just inside the kitchen. She was smiling, even though she looked like an absolute wreck. Her wavy mane was a frizzy mess from sleeping on the couch.
“What died on your head?” Spirit asked, grinning at her.
“Your charm.” Mirage shot back, then giggled a little.
She walked over to the kitchen counter, picked up an apple with her magic, then levitated it to her mouth so she could take a hearty bite.
Spirit glanced at her up and down. Her beautiful coat, though a little messy, was soft and bright, and her eyes captivated him. He smiled at her, then went back to trying to grab the oats he had originally been trying to reach out for. Mirage watched him struggle for a moment, then glanced down at the floor briefly. She did a double take when she noticed the letter under Spirit’s hoof.
“Hey,” She said as she let her magic grip the letter and began pulling at it. “Lift your hoof.”
“What?” Spirit Glider asked. He looked down at his hooves and saw the letter. He pulled his hoof upwards, letting the note slip free into Mirage’s magical grasp.
Mirage brought the letter forward, then opened it. Her large purple eyes scanned the page before reading it laloud for Spirit.
“Phantom Syndicate Inc, you are cordially invited to the Canterlot Palace for an urgent meeting for all Ghost Control companies and freelancers. Please bring all employees of your company. Food and drink will be provided, Princess Luna” Mirage read.
Spirit Glider leaped into the air, then did a backflip, using his wings to catch some air as he hit the apex of his loop, then dropped back down onto the floor. He let out a loud, hissing “yes!” as he landed, then he glided over to Mirage and hugged her tight.
“We got a formal invitation from Princess Luna herself!” He cried out. “I wonder what it’s for, she wants all the companies?” He questioned as he trotted around the kitchen.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Mirage mumbled as she turned the letter over, showing the location and date. “She wants to meet midday? But she’s the princess of night, why would she want to hold the meeting at noon?”
“Maybe so we can go back to our duties later?” Spirit suggested.
Mirage simply shrugged and set the letter down on the counter. “Guess we’d better start packing then,” She hummed. “At least we’ll get to see Canterlot, I’ve never been there.” She added with a wide, excited smile.
“You’ll love it. My parents live there.” Spirit Glider said. “We’ll leave tomorrow after we finish helping Mrs. Jennet.”
“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Mirage asked, concern thick in her voice. “Your shoulder still isn’t completely healed yet.”
Spirit lifted his shoulder up and tried to move it. It was stiff and stung but it wasn’t as bad as before. “I’ll be fine,” he said, waving her off with a wing. “Besides, the princess says she wants everyone, so I have to go, right?” He argued.
Mirage shook her head and smiled. “You’re crazy” She chuckled. “I’m going to wake Quill up then get our bags ready,” she said, then turned to leave the kitchen.
Spirit finished his breakfast just as Quill woke up and joined him in the kitchen. Quill stumbled sleepily into the fridge before opening it and taking out a bottle of juice, then went to the pantry to grab a bag of chips.
“Chips? At ten in the morning?” Spirit teased, grinning at the sleepy pony. “Are you sure you can handle that?”
“Shut up Spirit,” Quill grumbled, then sat down at their kitchen table to eat. “Mirage said you wanted to tell me something?”
Spirit Glider grinned proudly, then scooted the letter across the table. “We’ve been invited to Canterlot” He boasted. “By Princess Luna herself!”
Quill’s sleepiness evaporated instantly as he picked up the letter. “Are you serious?” He asked, then paused. “Wait... does that mean Crimson Iron will be there?” He asked, then groaned before dropped his head onto the table.
“Aw come on Quill, i’m sure your sister doesn’t care that you pretty much left her company for mine.” Spirit said.
“Does your brother forgive you?” Quill shot back. Spirit Glider lost his muster.
Spirit Glider and his brother, Bright Moon, hadn’t spoken in a long time. They had originally started a Ghost Fighting company when they were young after a tragic incident took their parent’s lives away. Spirit was never clear about why, but at some point, he and his brother had a falling out and went their separate ways. Rumor had it, the falling out had been over a ghost mare, but no one was firm on the details. Spirit never talked about it other than the simple “We just had a stupid fight and I left”. That was the most Quill had ever gotten from him anyway.
“I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you,” Spirit mumbled after a moment of awkward silence. Quill adjusted his glasses again.
“Yeah well. I’m sure your brother has missed you too.” Quill said. Spirit nodded in agreement. “So,” Quill continued, “the meeting isn’t until the day after tomorrow, should we figure out how to deal with Mrs. Jennet’s problem?”
Spirit Glider stretched his wings out and worked his injured shoulder a little. “That’s probably a good idea.” He agreed. “Chalk board?”
Quill nodded. They walked upstairs to Quill’s room, which was essentially a library filled with books and research papers, along with various scrolls. In front of Quill’s largely unused bed, there was a large chalkboard covered in chalk dust and doodles. Spirit wiped them away with a quick flick of his wing then picked up a chalk stick with his feathers, writing on the board as he spoke aloud.
“Alright, we didn’t find the Death Spot or the Tether, but we know what it does around the time of the haunt,” Spirit said.
“First, there’s the echo of glass shattering,” Quill recounted and Spirit drew a broken vase in possibly the most cartoonish way possible. “Then it runs down the stairs, and out the door, slamming it behind him.”
Spirit drew a cartoon ghost running down a flight of stairs and out a door. He drew a speech bubble above its head and wrote “Have to run” inside.
“Then it disappears if there isn’t anypony around to try and Mark,” Spirit Glider said. He paused as he tried to think of the events of the night before. He set the piece of chalk down and paced the room. Quill studied the board as if Spirit’s less-than-detailed drawings held some sort of clue.
“Mirage is sure that’s all she heard it say?” Quill affirmed “Have to run?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Spirit answered while he paced. Quill walked over to some old newspapers and took out a stack of them. He set them down on a table on the other side of the room and began searching through them.
“I did some research a few days ago,” Quill said, ignoring Spirit’s muttered ‘you always research’. He found the newspaper he was looking for and found a picture of the stallion the ghost had been when it was alive. “It says Lucky Risk was a wealthy pony that made his fortune in real estate. He was found dead in his summer home ten years ago. Neighbors said they heard running and a loud thud, then a door slam but thought maybe he was just running late to meet a client. They never saw him leave the house.” Quill read.
Spirit wrote the highlights down on the chalkboard then paused. “Wait, a thud? Did we ever hear a thud?”
“No I never heard one.” Quill said. “Mirage didn’t mention one either.
“When a ghost is playing out its actions before death every sound that lead up to that death usually follows it. So how come we never heard a thud?” Spirit asked.
Quill didn’t answer him. He went back to the newspapers as he tried to think of all the possibilities. Suddenly he felt his heart sank as he found another newspaper article with a picture of Lucky Risk at his wedding with a beautiful mare wearing an extravagant wedding gown. “What if he wasn’t the one that made the noise?” Quill asked. He took the paper over to Spirit.
Spirit looked at the picture and the article, then noticed the unmistakable gold chain of a necklace around her neck. The pendant was under her dress but it triggered a memory in Spirit.
“Locket” Spirit whispered and slammed his hoof on the picture. “Locket! The ghost yelled out Locket before it vanished last time!”
“Locket?” Quill asked. “What’s a locket have to do with anything?”
“Mrs Jennet said the ghost didn’t start causing problems until she was cleaning out the attic and she found a box of old things. I bet that mare’s locket is in the box and he’s Tethered to it!” Spirit excitedly called out. He began drawing like a mad-pony on the chalkboard, doodling various ponies and events.
“Mrs. Jennet cleans out her attic, finds the locket, and somehow touching it triggers his ghost to come back and start haunting,” Spirit rambled quickly. “Okay. So on the night of his death, his wife is at the house when he dies and leaves that locket for some reason. And nopony saw her leave?”
“Article said she claimed she wasn’t there that night, she was visiting family in Trottingham.” Quill said. “But how could she have been there if she was at Risky’s summer home too?”
“I don’t know... Quill, go to the archives and see if you can find any information on their relationship or possible suitors, anything you can get your hooves on.” Spirit said. “Mirage and I are going to see if any of his old friends that are still in town that can answer this.”
“But why?” Quill asked. “We know what and where the Tether is why don’t we just go and Bind it?”
“Because Quill, if he wasn’t alone the night he died, and his wife claims she wasn’t there, but her locket was still there, then I think he was murdered and if he was, then that means we can solve a murder case as well as a ghost case” Spirit replied excitedly.
“Alright Spirit,” Quill sighed. “Try not to get arrested again, I can’t afford the bail.”
“Of course you can’t” Spirit laughed “I don’t pay you enough.” With that, Spirit was out the door in search of Mirage to explain the situation.
Quill shook his head. He packed a few things in his saddlebags, then made his way outside and to the local library to go through their archives.
Mirage trotted happily under Spirit Glider as he floated above her. She loved the brisk chill of the autumn air and wearing her favorite scarf and cape. It wasn’t as cold as the night before so she kept the cape open. She looked up at Spirit Glider, who never seemed to get cold as he dipped and rolled in the air. She always loved watching him fly around. Spirit looked so carefree when he was flying.
Bridle Falls wasn’t a small town, but it wasn’t a big town either. It had originally started as a pitstop along the river bank for boats traveling around the mountains nearby. Then, the settler ponies began building roads through the mountains and around them. Mirage had grown up there, whereas Spirit Glider and Quill moved there a few years ago. Even though the town wasn’t huge, Mirage hadn’t met Spirit and Quill until last year, when she was looking for a new company to work for. It wasn’t like she had many options in Bridle Falls, there were only 5 Ghost Fighting companies in town not including Spirit Glider’s. She ended up getting offers from all the companies, but chose Spirit’s, because there was only two other ponies so complications with supervisors and co-workers were probably going to be minimal.
She liked her town, and the surrounding area. It had a large shopping center, a huge library and even a few hotels. Tourists liked to hike the surrounding mountains and Bridle Falls, the waterfall for which the town was named, was just outside of town and a huge tourist destination.
Yes Mirage loved her town, but she couldn’t help but feel that maybe it was getting a little predictable. Mirage had a strong sense wanderlust, an urge to get out and explore, so she was probably the most excited out of the three about the trip to Canterlot.
Spirit Glider landed beside her and trotted at her pace. “Lucky Risk’s sister Sapphire Crown still lives here,” Spirit answered Mirage’s question. “If anyone knows anything about his death, she will.”
“Are you sure about this Spirit? Maybe Quill is right and we should just Find and Bind,” Mirage said, using a common saying in the Ghost Fighting business.
“Where’s the fun in that Mirage?” Spirit asked. Mirage rolled her eyes.
They walked through the marketplace, glancing at the wares the sales ponies had to offer. Most of the jewelry was iron or silver these days, and lavender was a popular accent; It was commonly turned into fibers and sewn into clothing. Doing so weakened the power of the lavender against ghosts, but it still offered some minor protection, and was mentally reassuring. Lavender was also a new popular food flavoring and seasoning. It hadn’t really been proven to guard against Ghost Marks, but it had medicinal benefits, which made healthy ponies that much harder to kill. A healthy pony could survive a good two or even three hours of being Marked by a level 1 or 2 Ghost with no treatment around. That was typically enough time to get to help at least.
Spirit watched her look at the jewelry. He had never seen Mirage wear Jewelry, her only form of accessorizing was wrapping stalks of lavender around her horn or her cape. She was a very practical unicorn and Spirit liked that. He noticed her gaze linger a little longer than usual on a particularly fancy brooch a pony was selling. It was a beautiful golden brooch with purple and green gems in the shape of lavender stalks against a black metal circle. The brooch was actually a container with a hole drilled through the center allowing for fresh lavender to be threaded through.
“You go on ahead Mirage, it’s just up the road and it’s the big house on the left.” Spirit said.
‘Where are you going?” Mirage asked, raising her brow suspiciously.
“I gotta check on something.” Spirit said and flew up into the sky without another word, hiding among some low hanging clouds.
Sapphire Crown’s house was the largest in the whole town. Mirage had gone by this house before but hadn’t really paid much attention to it. She looked around for Spirit Glider briefly before knocking on the door. A butler answered and looked down at her and her garb.
“May I help you?” He asked in a bored, dead tone.
Mirage cleared her throat and stood a little straighter. “Yes, I’d like to speak to miss Sapphire Crown please. It’s an urgent matter,” She said as politely as possible.
The butler looked down at her and raised her brow. “Madam Crown is very busy, if you’d like an audience with her, please make an appointment.”
“Sir, this is very important business” Mirage said. She used her magic to lift her cape up to show him her cutie mark. It was of a bright blue, gaseous, smoky orb with a large tendril of wispy smoke trailing off. The orb had a swirl of magical aura behind it to show Mirages particular talent in using her magic against ghosts. The orb was a typical representation of a soul called a will-o-wisp. Will-o-wisps were what Ghost Fighters nicknamed “ghost beacons”. They hung around areas where lots of deaths occurred or some type of huge tragedy happened. They also liked to hang around where a ghost was staying so they were typically considered the first sign. Regular ponies could see them occasionally as faint lights, so they made great calling cards. Most Ghost Fighters had a depiction of a will-o-wisp in some form or another and in a large range of colors, usually correlating to their specific talent in catching ghosts, as their cutie mark.
The butler saw the cutie mark and he went a little pale as his eyes widened. “Please... Come in miss..?” He asked, trailing off slightly.
“Mirage.” She answered and lifted her head up in pride. She let the cape drop then trotted into the house.
Quill sat at a desk in the public library. He had a good four foot pile of old, dusty scrolls and newspaper articles. He was digging through them and scanning their words, looking for anything that could give him any clues.
“Hello Quill.” A pony said quietly. She was an older mare, a nice cream color with her brown mane tied back in a bun. She had sharp, red glasses on and wool knit shirt on to help with the cold. Quill looked up at her and smiled.
“Oh, hello Book Worm.” He said happily while he adjusted his glasses. “How are you today?”
“I’m doing great,” Book Worm smiled. “On another case?” She asked. Quill nodded.
“Do you know anything about Lucky Risk and his wife?” He asked. “We’re trying to contain his ghost.”
“Lucky Risk’s ghost?” Book Worm asked in surprise. She quickly sat down across the table from him. “I can’t believe he’d become a ghost after all these years. He liked everyone and never had any enemies. He prided himself in always keeping good relationships with everyone.”
“That’s all I’m finding too.” Quill sighed. “I can’t find anything, not even anything on his wife” He said. “Who was she anyway?”
“I don’t really remember her much, just that her name was Crystal Blossom and that they got married overseas.” Book Worm said.
“No one ever met her? Did she never go out?” Quill asked, raising his brow at the unusual information.
Book Worm paused, bring a hoof to her chin as she thought. “No, no one ever saw her in person.” She said.
“Where was she from?” Quill urged. Maybe he had a lead here.
“You know Quill, I don’t think we were ever told” She answered.
Quill sighed in defeat. He laid his head on the table and let his eyes drift across the articles. His eyes rested on the picture of Lucky Risk and his wife. He looked at the mare’s beautiful dressed that covered everything on her body. She was wearing make up, a lot of it by the looks of it, especially around the cheekbones. He looked at the locket again as it rested around her neck. He glanced over at Lucky Risk. He was dressed in a fancy tuxedo and had a flower in his lapel. He noticed a mark on the photo at Lucky Risk’s neck but ignored it. Suddenly, he stiffened and stared at the photo for a long time. He suddenly pushed some books over, scaring Book Worm, and dragged a large magnifying glass over. He aimed it down at the picture and studied it for a good long while before crying out in joy.
“That’s it!” He yelled, breaking the silence of the library. “I figured it out!” He jumped down from his chair, snagging the newspaper off the table on his way down. “I’m taking this Book Worm!” He called as he ran out of the library as fast as his little legs could carry him.
Book Worm watched him run off with her jaw hanging down.
Mirage waited patiently in Sapphire Crown’s foyer. She had been given a glass of cider to drink, which she sipped at politely. The front door opened and she heard the butler talking to someone. A few moments later, Spirit Glider came trotting inside.
“There you are.” Mirage scolded. “Where were you-?” She was cut off when Spirit Glider took the basic clasp off and replaced it with the lavender brooch she had been looking at in the market place. Mirage blushed brightly as she looked down at it. “Spirit..”
“I saw you looking at it, and you did save my life yesterday.” Spirit beamed. He blushed a little at the awkward silence and kicked his hoof a little to look busy.
Mirage smiled. “It’s perfect Spirit, thank you.” she said happily. Spirit beamed at her then looked up as Sapphire Crown came walking down the stairs. She was a light blue color with a white and blue mane.
“Good afternoon ponies,” Sapphire said politely. “How may I help you today?”
“We were wondering if you could answer some questions about your brother.” Mirage said. “We’re working on a case and-”
“And it's his ghost?” Sapphire asked with a sigh. She walked over to an old globe on a stand and opened it, revealing a small bar on the inside with some more ‘adult’ ciders inside. She poured herself a glass then started drinking.
“Uh, yes. I’m sorry, I know that the news can be a little unsettling.” Mirage said.
“It’s quite alright. Lucky had his demons, I assumed he’d become a ghost eventually.” Sapphire replied as she stepped lightly across the tile floor to a table.
“Demons?” Spirit and Mirage asked in unison.
“Oh yes,” Sapphire answered. She set her glass down and sighed. “It was a well kept secret, but Lucky had some.. problems.” She stained. “He would disappear for days at a time, then come back and act like nothing had ever happened. It was like he had no idea he’d been gone at all.”
“Really? That’s odd. How come?” Spirit asked. Sapphire shrugged.
“We never knew,” She replied. “But when he met that wife of his it got worse. He’d be gone for months instead of days.”
Spirit and Mirage looked at each other in confusion. “What can you tell us about his wife?”
“I never met her,” Sapphire answered, waving a hoof as if to shoo the question away. “I didn’t even get invited to the wedding. Lucky and I had a fight about that. He claimed he didn’t even remember the wedding but I think it was because she wanted to keep it private.”
“Why do you say that?” Mirage asked.
“Why else would he not invite his sister?” Sapphire asked. “Anyway, that’s all I know,” she said.
“Well, we appreciate your time.” Spirit said. “Thank you, we’ll do everything we can to put his spirit at rest.”
Sapphire nodded. “Thank you,” she said and smiled faintly at them as they left.
“Well now I’m even more confused.” Mirage sighed, but smiled as she looked at her new brooch.
“Yeah, me too,” Spirit sighed he looked up as he saw Quill, galloping desperately towards them and trying hard to keep the newspaper in his mouth from flying off.
“I gof if! I gof if!” Quill cried out as he ran. His glasses were starting to fly off but he stumbled to keep them on.
Quill fell down in front of them, holding up the newspaper to keep it from falling. Mirage picked it up with her magic.
“What, Quill?” She asked and looked at the article. “We’ve seen this already.”
“Look at the picture. Closely,” Quill said. “Look at their necks.”
Spirit and Mirage leaned in together and squinted as they looked at the picture. They were both quiet for a moment, then...
Something clicked in their minds.
They nearly dropped the paper as the three ponies looked at each other, two of their jaws hanging open at the sudden realization...
Chapter 3: The Winds of Change
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Chapter 4: Living With the Past
Author's Note
Thanks for reading so far, I hope you’re enjoying it.
Chapter 4: Living With the Past
The fall sun was low and pale in the afternoon sky. Mirage and her friends had been waiting a long time to speak with Princess Luna, and night was coming on fast. Mirage was quickly losing hope that they would be back home in time for the nightly ghosts to appear. She decided to try and consider it like a vacation and hope that nothing too disastrous happened back home.
She turned to Spirit, frowning as she watched him favor his injured shoulder while he stared into nothing. They sat quietly in the Canterlot Gardens, waiting for Quill to finish his talks with Princess Luna. He was, after all, the better speaker of the bunch.
“Oh, sorry, Mirage. I was just thinking,” Spirit said. His voice had softened and become heavy with his thoughts.
‘We could always leave Quill here, you know,” Mirage said softly. She stood up and moved to his other side so she could inspect his shoulder. “I want you to see a doctor anyway.”
Spirit pulled his shoulder away from her. “I’m fine, Mirage,” he huffed. He stood up and walked toward the center of the gardens.
He looked up when he heard a whistling noise above him, as a silver and yellow bullet dropped from the sky. Bright Moon landed gracefully in front of him, making the white stallion step back.
“Spirit! There you are!” Bright Moon panted. He quickly grabbed Spirit’s wing in his mouth and forced it open. “Come on, I’m taking you with me to my place.”
Spirit ripped his wing away, then took a step back. “What are you talking about, Moon? What’s with you?” he demanded. Mirage trotted up beside him to offer her support.
“You heard Princess Luna. That ghost is bad news and I’m not letting my brother get hurt,” Moon said firmly.
“Since when do you care if I get hurt?” Spirit scoffed. He stomped his left hoof to accentuate the point then instantly regretted it when his wound stung.
“I’ve always cared about you, Spirit,” Moon said. “Even when you left, I worried about you. I know how brash and reckless you can be.’ He stepped closer and put his hoof on Spirit’s injury, making him cringe again. “Look at you, You need a doctor.”
“I’m fine!” Spirit yelled. He snapped his wings open in anger. They popped open so fast that his feathers sliced across Mirage’s cheek. She cried out, backing away as a thin line of blood bubbled up along the cut, staining her soft periwinkle fur red.
Spirit slapped his wings closed as he realized what he had done. He trotted over to Mirage, taking her hoof in his as he inspected the wound.
“Mirage, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” he asked desperately.
Mirage wiped her cheek and looked at the blood on her hoof. It wasn’t much, and it stung more than anything. “I’m fi—”
“You’re so reckless! No wonder you’re hurt!” Moon snapped angrily, pushing himself between them. “By Celestia, it’s a wonder you haven’t gotten killed, or worse, gotten her killed!” he added, pointing at Mirage.
Spirit flattened his ears at his brother’s verbal assault. He backed up, and for the first time Mirage saw true fear enter his expression. The will-o-wisps the night before had been nothing but a minor concern compared to the fear he showed now.
“Spirit, I’m fine, really,” Mirage said gently as she stepped toward him. “It just scared me, that’s all.”
Spirit’s jaw clenched tight as he steeled himself. Despite the act, Mirage could see the tears welling up in his eyes. “Just leave me alone!” he yelled, his voice cracking.
He spread his wings again, after making sure that no one was close to him this time. He ignored Mirage’s plea to stay as he shot up into the sky, catching a gust of wind and using it to speed off into the clouds.
Mirage sighed as she watched him fly off. She turned on Moon angrily and snorted. “What was that for? It was just a scratch, it’s not like he tried to killed me!” Her horn glowed, ready for a spell though even Mirage didn’t know
Bright Moon swallowed hard. “I just want to make sure he’s safe,” he said, looking somber. Mirage bit her tongue . “Spirit has always been headstrong, and he never stops to think about the consequences of his decisions. If he had just listened to me, then maybe Lily would still be alive.”
“Lilly?” It came out of Mirage’s mouth so fast she barely realized until it was too late.
Moon sighed, turning away from her as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “Our sister, Star Lily. When Spirit and I started our own company, we let our little sister join us.
“We took her on what should have been a simple job. Just a level one spirit. He rushed off to look for the Tether, leaving her by herself. We didn’t know there was another ghost there too, but when we heard her scream it was already too late. We got into the room at the same time, but she was already dead. She’d been Ghost Marked by a level four. Spirit lost it, tossing every single bomb he had at the ghost until it went back to its Tether. He nearly burnt down the house.”
Mirage covered her mouth to hide her horrified expression. Moon’s tears were flowing freely down his face as he spoke.
“She came back as a ghost a week later.. Spirit wouldn’t let anyone touch her Tether. I finally had to knock him out and Bind it myself. We parted ways after that.” Moon finished finally.
“Moon, I’m.. I’m so sorry.” Mirage said softly.
Moon shook his head. “Just.. watch over Spirit for me. I know he can be a pain but he really is a good guy.”
Mirage nodded. “I just hope I can find him before he gets any stupid ideas”
Moon turned back to her as he spread his silvery wings, catching the glinting light of the setting sun. “Try Silent Pastures. It’s where he always goes when he comes to Canterlot.”
“Right..” Mirage said then turned to leave the gardens as Moon flew off.
****
Quill waited patiently in line behind the other representatives of the various companies. He sighed when he looked at how many ponies were still in front of him.
It took another hour for him to finally meet with Princess Luna. She waited while he bowed in respect to her.
“I am Mystic Quill, I represent Phantom Syndicate, Princess,” He adjusted his glasses as he brought himself back up.
“Ah yes, Mystic Quill I’ve read your studies on ghost hunting techniques. I was expecting… somepony else,” Luna replied with a strain as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle in her head. Quill sighed.
“I know.. I’m not a unicorn.. Or tall,” he mumbled. “Anyway, Your Highness, my companions and I encountered a ghost just last night that went from a level two to a level three in just one day. On top of that, its Tether moved on its own.”
“I see. That is very concerning,” Luna replied after a moment’s thought. “You found the Tether and sent it to the processing facility?”
“Good. I would like to study it myself. I would also like to further discuss your findings on ghost control, if you and your company can stay in Canterlot.”
Quill was surprised but nodded quickly. “Yes, of course. I’m sure my friends won’t mind staying. We don’t have any actual assignments at the moment.”
Luna nodded. “Very well. I will have rooms prepared for you in the west wing.” She looked beyond Quill and saw that no other ponies were in line. “If you’ll excuse me, I have my usual duties to attend to.”
“Of course, Princess.” Quill said and bowed again.
Luna left, and Quill turned back to find his friends.
****
The sun was almost completely set, causing the air in the graveyard to chill considerably. The scent of fallen leaves permeated the air as they scattered across the grass in the breeze. Statues of ponies in triumphant or forlorn poses that decorated the lawns above headstones and grave markers looked sinister in the evening shadows.
Spirit hardly seemed to notice any of them. He simply stared at a headstone under a willow tree. There was a statute above the headstone of a pegasus with her arms folded and wings spread as if she were flying straight up into the air. Spirit let his tears drip down his muzzle and onto the headstone. The dry stone soaked up the tears as if trying to dry them.
“I’m so sorry, Lily...” he whispered, his voice cracking. He heard some soft hoof-steps, muffled by the soft damp grass, approach him. He glanced up just to see who it was then turned away from Mirage.
“Spirit? Hey, it’s getting dark you know,” Mirage said softly.
“I guess Moon told you where I’d be… which means you know what I did,” Spirit mumbled, ignoring her statement.
“He did,” Mirage said. “Spirit, I know it was traumatic, but it’s getting dark, and you know it’s illegal to stay in a graveyard at night.”
“I just want a little longer,” Spirit whimpered, wiping his face clean again
Mirage frowned then sat down beside him. “Alright. A little longer.”
They were quiet as the sun finally set. Mirage wished she had remembered her cloak as the night grew darker and the air -- colder. Mirage shivered and turned to Spirit, watching as he simply stared at the headstone. She looked up at the sky, seeing that the moon was already rising. She looked around as will-o-wisps began floating around the graves and trees. Mirage could also see harmless level one spirits drifting as aimlessly as the wisps through the grounds. As long as Spirit and Mirage remained quiet and didn’t bother them, the ghosts wouldn’t be bothered in return. Even so, Mirage didn’t like being so exposed.
“Spirit, can we go yet?” Mirage asked. The ghosts around them were becoming more active and begun to approach. “I’m sure Quill is wondering where we are.”
Spirit didn’t answer her. He wobbled a little, then fell to the side, crashing onto Mirage’s shoulder. She squeaked from surprise, then looked at him a bit more closely. He was unconscious and despite being ice cold to the touch, he was sweating heavily. Mirage felt her heart freeze solid in her chest as if the chill of the night had iced it over. Spirit’s shoulder was bleeding through the bandages and gauze with yellowish strain swirling in the blood and staining bandages.
Mirage looked around. The ghosts in the area had suddenly sensed his weakness and were starting to float toward them. She tried to lift Spirit up but he was too heavy for her. “Come on, Spirit, I can’t lift you!” she grunted.
She used her magic to try to lift him but he was still too heavy for her to get anywhere. Mirage set him down then stood over him as the ghosts started to encroach. She used her magic to blast some of them with puffs of salt and lavender, making them shriek and fade away. Spirit let out a soft whimper at the noises of the ghostly screams.
Mirage looked down at him. “It’s going to be okay, Spirit,” she whispered, more for herself than him. The ghosts were starting to close in, inching ever closer to them.
She couldn’t help herself. Mirage was imagining one of the ghosts getting past her and attacking Spirit. She could see him becoming possessed and attacking her, but even worse than that, she imagined herself killing him. She didn’t want to think about it; she wanted to focus on the ghosts in front of her. They were just level ones, a foal could handle them, she had to focus.
But she couldn’t. She was watching herself kill Spirit. She imagined his death; his beautiful white coat stained with his blood, his vibrant eyes dulling as the light of life left them and his body going rigid and cold with death.
Mirage couldn’t focus on anything else but the images of his death. She didn’t notice the ghosts approaching even closer, or how one reached out to touch her with a long tendril of ghostly fog. It brushed against her mane, causing the hair to fizzle and burn as if a flame had been taken to them. She cried out in fear when she smelled the stench of death wafting from her burnt hair. Her horn glowed vibrantly, making a blinding light that knocked some of the weaker ghosts into oblivion. The light exploded outward while a barrier cocooned Mirage and Spirit in a lavender colored translucent bubble with petals of lavender floating through it like a snowglobe. The ghosts caught in the explosion of the bubble were instantly disintegrated, the rest were tossed aside. The ghosts attempted to breach the barrier but bounced off of it. With each hit it took, a crack appeared in the barrier. Mirage winced with every hit, as if each crack was a direct blow to her. She wasn’t sure when or how the barrier had appeared, but she was grateful for it. Another sharp hit to the barrier made a flash go off in her head, causing her to see white for a moment. A sharp pain shot through her head and as the blinding whiteness faded, her vision returned blurry and hazy.
She saw a large dark figure approaching from behind the swarm of ghosts. There was no doubt in Mirage’s head it was the ghost that Luna and Star Orchid had warned them all of. She clenched her eyes shut, not wanting to see her own end coming.At least we’ll go together, Spirit, she thought as the tears seeped under her closed eyelids.
She heard the screeches of the ghosts, then heavy hoof-steps approaching. She opened her eyes to see a light blue aura approaching, then winced again. The energy in her was almost completely drained from sustaining their protective bubble. Mirage wobbled as her head spun and her vision faded in and out. The dark blue figure of a pony stood above her, but she couldn’t make out any details. All Mirage knew was that death was there. Mirage groaned in a futile attempt to scare off the figure, but it was the last thing her energy allowed her to do before she finally succumbed to exhaustion. She collapsed on top of Spirit, her vision going completely dark.
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Chapter 6: Hints of the Past
The opened portal allowed Mirage to rush through it before closing again, but when she exited she found herself in the dark street of Fall Avenue. Something was-different, though, The buildings were the same, but they looked older, not broken or run down older but like they had just been built. She walked through the empty night streets until she came upon the lavender shop, but instead of the large bundles of lavender and displays of lavender products outside, there were ponies laughing and talking with mugs of cider in their hooves or wrapped in magical embrace. Something too was different about the ponies; apart from the fact that she didn’t recognize any of them, they were all dressed in old-fashioned clothing, with the mares in long layered dresses and bonnets and the stallions wearing vests with top hats.
“Is this Bridle Falls?” Mirage asked herself. She trotted up to one of the ponies outside of the shop. “E-excuse me, do you know the date? I think i’m confu-”
As she spoke,one of the ponies seemed to approach her in order to answer her question, but instead went straight through her. Mirage gasped when she felt him pass through, it was like a cold winter wind chilling her insides, but the stallion didn’t even seem to notice she had been there at all.
She turned around to watch him walk away, her jaw hanging open in horror. Was she dead? Was she a ghost now too? Mirage couldn’t accept that--she wouldn’t accept it. She had felt no pain, there wasn’t any struggle to live or even scenes of her life playing out in front of her, she couldn’t possibly be dead.
A voice brought her out of her own mind suddenly. “You look a little lost, maybe I can help?” The mare’s voice was soft and warm and inviting, like a mother’s voice telling her it would be okay.
Mirage turned back around to see a mare standing in front of her. She wasn’t dressed in any fancy clothing or anything, but that wasn’t nearly as confusing to Mirage as the fact that this mare had her cutie mark. She instantly recognized the will-o-wisp wrapped in a magical aura as her own and was even more confused than before
She was tall, a little taller than Mirage but not as tall as say Princess Luna or Celestia, and she was a unicorn at that. She had a beautiful golden-yellow curled mane that cascaded down her back like strings of silk that almost touched the ground. Her coat was a pastel green color that accented her dark green eyes, and a warm, inviting smile that seemed almost sad.
“Who are you?” Mirage asked.
“That doesn’t matter right now.” The mare replied. “You need to go home.”
“But.. I am home- well, I thought I was.” Mirage said taking one more look around. “Everything is different.”
“You’re in the past, in the earliest days of Bridle Falls.” The mare answered. “This is where everything began.” She gestured a hoof and Mirage followed the line until she saw another mare walking through the streets, wearing a long, beautiful wedding gown. Mirage recognized her instantly.
“Rose Bell? This is the night she went to the falls... the night she died..” Mirage mumbled, his voice catching in her throat slightly.
“You have a unique gift Mirage.” The mare continued. “You can see into the souls of the departed, see their past and learn the truth of their death. This is why you’ve always been so good at hearing their voices.”
Mirage turned back to her when she saw Rose Bell leave the town, rushing blindly to her death. She had been a better listener than Spirit and even Quill, but many other ghost hunters could hear the voices of the dead just as clearly.
“I can what?” She asked. She wondered if maybe she could run after Rose Bell and stop her from falling off the cliff, but if that stallion had walked through her she doubted she could even touch Rose Bell.
Wait, what had that mare just say? “How...do you know my name? Who are you?” Mirage demanded, suddenly very unsure of this mare.
“I know a lot about you Mirage, and about your friends. It was pure fate that brought the three of you together, and I am very eager to see where your paths lead from here.” The mare smiled down at her.
“S-so does that mean, I’m not dead? I can go back?” Mirage asked. She still wasn’t sure she wanted to trust this mare, but she didn’t have much of a choice if she wanted to see her friends again.
“You still have a long way to go before you join the dead Mirage,” The mare replied, her horn began to glow as she spoke. “And you have much to learn about your gifts. Trust your instincts, and you can become a powerful Paladin one day.”
The mare’s magic lifted into the air, creating a portal above Mirage that seemed to open into complete darkness. Some type of powerful force began pulling her into the air as if something had simply grabbed her and was lifting her up.
“W-wait!” Mirage yelled, swinging her legs as if she could gallop away from the magic in mid-air. “Wait, what’s a paladin? How did I get here? What am I supposed to do? Who are you!?”
“You cannot stay in one ghost’s memories for too long, you must go or be lost here forever. You will learn more, just trust yourself” The mare called to her.
Mirage cried out as she was sucked in through the portal. Everything was black and quiet for a long time before Mirage could finally hear buzzing noises, like massive bees humming above her. The buzzing slowed and she could hear patterns in them, then it slowed into voices. She couldn’t understand them at first, but as she began opening her eyes, she heard a stallion speaking to her.
“Miss? Miss are you okay?” The stallion asked. He helped Mirage to her hooves as she finally came to.
She was in the middle of the street, right in front of the lavender shop, which was once again selling lavender and not cider, with her cloak on the ground below her. Her head was throbbing painfully like her heart had squeezed itself inside and was trying to pump blood from there. It made her hopelessly dizzy and even a little nauseous.
“What happened? Where am I?” She asked. She looked around but the bright sunlight blinded her. Once she regained herself, Mirage looked back at the stallion. She recognized him from around town, so that was evidence enough she was back in her own time.
“You’re on Front Street,” The stallion said. “You’re Mirage right? From Phantom Syndicate?” He asked.
“Y-yeah..” Mirage mumbled. “Spirit? Where is Spirit? What about the ghost?” She demanded quickly when it all came back to her in a rush.
The stallion was a little confused but he tried to answer her questions as best he could. “You mean the ghost last night that caused that flash?” He asked. “Spirit Glider said you were killed by the ghost and vanished”
“But i’m not dead.” Mirage groaned, then began to stumble forward. “Take me to Spirit, please,”
“Sure miss” The stallion said softly. He let her lean against him and he walked her back to her home.
****
Quill sighed as he held up his ink pen to his paper, letting a drop of ink splash onto the scroll and soak into its fibers. How many times had he started this letter? And how many times had he let tears mix with his ink? He had to let Princess Luna know about the ghost, and he had to tell her about Mirage’s fall, but he just couldn’t bring himself to write a single word.
He sighed again, for possibly the hundredth time that morning, and looked up to the top of the stairs to where Spirit had locked himself in his room the entire night and had yet to come out. Quill had tried to talk to him at some point in the night, but hearing the muffled sobs of his normally fearless captain made him turn away. He looked away from the stairs and accepted Spirit wasn’t going to come down anytime soon.
There was a loud urgent knock at the door, which Quill was tempted to ignore but when the knock persisted, he caved. He walked over to the door and opened it to see an older stallion struggling to hold Mirage up. She was fading in and out of consciousness and limp in the stallion’s hooves.
“I- uh, think she lives here right?” He asked. Quill was staring at the pony in such shock and disarray, that his glasses fell off of his face and cracked on the ground.
“Mirage!’ He breathed. “Y-yeah bring her in, quickly. Sp-Spirit! Spirit come down! It’s Mirage!” He yelled frantically.
The stallion brought Mirage inside and laid her on the couch, which seemed to help her. She lifted her head up when the room finally stopped spinning and smiled up at Quill.
“Hey, Quill... I didn’t make you worry too much did I?” Mirage asked, her voice low and distant. She was exhausted and her head was still throbbing, but she was happy to be in familiar surroundings again and with familiar faces.
Quill had to wipe his eyes free of tears. “We thought you were dead Mirage, I was so.. We couldn’t...” He trailed off, unable to full form any coherent thought.
Mirage smiled at him and held a hoof out to console him, but stopped when she noticed a form coming down the stairs.
“I thought you were-we were so- I couldn’t-.” Spirit struggled through his tears.
Mirage held onto him mostly to keep herself from falling, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t happy to smell his familiar mix of natural odor and the smokiness of the magnesium flares that never quite left his soft coat no matter how hard he washed it.
“What happened to you anyway?” Quill asked with a hint of bitterness in his voice.
Mirage pulled away from Spirit and returned to the couch with some difficulty. “I..I don’t know.. I think I used a spell that put me into Rose Bell's memories... There was a mare there that said I would make a great Paladin someday, it was all so strange.”
“You what?” they both asked in unison.
Mirage blushed slightly. “Maybe..maybe it was just a weird dream and I used a teleport spell” She mumbled.
“Well we’re just glad you’re back, and you’re not Ghost Marked either,” Quill said, looking her over.
“I’m just exhausted” Mirage yawned.
“You should go to your room, let me help.” Spirit urged. He started to help her to her hooves but Mirage quickly wrestled from his grasp.
“N-no!” She squeaked. “I mean, uh... I’m fine here... With you two” She tried to push as much pleading into her voice as she dared so she wasn’t directly asking that all of them sleep in the living room like normal since she was actually very afraid of sleeping by herself.
Quill caught on first. “Yeah going upstairs in your condition might be tough. I’ll stay down here and work so if you need anything I’ll be nearby”
Mirage smiled and Spirit finally caught the idea. “Oh, yeah, I put my bedsheets in the wash anyway so I’ll sleep in my recliner tonight.” He said. Mirage was thankful they let her keep her dignity but still stayed with her.
Spirit gave her a few pillows to rest her head against, then brought his favorite Wonderbolts blanket over to cover her. It was thick and warm, and very plush so it provided far more comfort than her usual pile of blankets.
“How about some tea to help you sleep?” Quill offered. He had left and brought back a platter balanced on his back with a teapot and cups on it.
Mirage nodded eagerly, a good cup of tea was just the thing she needed to get the chill of that other world out of her bones. She started to use her magic to lift one of the cups up, but only managed to get it a few inches above the platter before her magic failed and the cup shattered on the ground. She gasped and flinched then looked up at Quill.
“I’m sorry, that was your good set too wasn’t it?” She apologized.
“It’s fine, One of the cups was chipped already anyway” Quill replied. He let Spirit pour a new cup and hand it to Mirage, who took it delicately in her hooves.
“Thanks” She whispered. She gently blew on the cup to cool it, then took a few grateful sips.
It wasn’t long before Mirage was fast asleep on the couch, snuggled tightly in Spirit’s blanket and warmed by Quill’s tea. Spirit watched over her for a few moments while Quill cleaned up the shattered teacup.
“Do you think what she said really happened Quill?” Spirit asked.
“Mirage has never lied to us before,” Quill answered, but that wasn’t exactly a confirmation or an argument.
“What is a Paladin anyway?” spirit questioned.
Quill adjusted his glasses after dumping the broken cup pieces into a nearby wastebasket. “I’ll do some research and find out, maybe princess Luna knows.” He suggested.
Spirit nodded then used his muzzle to gently push Mirage’s forelock behind her ear. “Maybe she would be safer with Bright Moon..” he mumbled.
“What?” Quill demanded. “You can’t be thinking about sending her away Spirit”
“That demon is here Quill, I don’t want Mirage to have to go through that again.” Spirit confided.
“She’s a strong mare Spirit. “Quill repositioned his broken glasses again. He had a spare set on his desk but hadn’t gone to retrieve them yet. “She’d bite your head off if she knew you were thinking of sending her away.”
Spirit lowered his head, letting his nose get close enough to Mirage to smell the sweet scent of lavender she always had about her. “You’re probably right but... I can’t lose her.”
“You’re not the only one afraid to lose her Spirit,” Quill responded sharply. “I love her too, you know that you’ve always known that.”
Spirit frowned at him. He knew Quill had feelings for Mirage of course and he had to admit they made the better pair; Mirage was calm and level-headed and just as smart as Quill was. They enjoyed a lot of the same interests too like old books and art, but Spirit was clearly the stronger of the two and could protect her better.
“Yeah well... Now isn’t the right time for this conversation.” Spirit dodged. “Can you send a letter to Princess Luna about the ghost while I get a medic to come look at her?”
Quill huffed in defeat. Spirit knew he’d rather tend to Mirage than argue about which one of them was better for her. “Yeah, Fine.” He replied. “Just be quick”
****
The medic had come and gone, leaving them with a favorable prognosis just as the chilly afternoon was starting to see its first snowfall of the winter season. Ghosts liked the cold, and with days shorter and nights longer, that meant ghost would haunt longer and the longer they could haunt, the more dangerous they became. Not the best time for an all-powerful snake-pony ghost to be rearing its ugly head.
Spirit worked to keep Mirage warm by providing her with extra blankets while she continued to sleep. The doctor had said her condition was normal, and even to be expected, when a unicorn attempted a powerful spell they hadn’t quite mastered or was too powerful for them to control. It left them with the constitution and strength of a newborn foal, which meant that until Mirage got her strength back, she wasn’t going to be hunting for a while.
The medic simply prescribed good food, lots of rest and comfort for the mare before he left and mentioned that she’d be back on her hooves in no time. Despite the good news, Spirit was still concerned. What kind of spell did she cast to make her so weak?
Spirit took the platter from him and set it on the table before taking a cup. “Still sleeping” He responded. “Must have really worn her out.”
“I did some research but all I could find on Paladins was some old text about knights and stuff like that, nothing about ghosts,” Quill commented as he sat down in his lounge.
“Maybe the library will have something?” Spirit suggested.
Quill was about to reply until there was a knock at the door. He set his cup down and walked over to the door, unsure of who it could be. They didn’t have any appointments for the day and they had put up a sign for ‘No Walk-ins Today’ so that Mirage wouldn’t be disturbed. It had to be somepony with an emergency but that didn’t matter to Quill, there were two other companies in Bridle Falls after all.
“I’m sorry,” Quill said as politely as he could when he reached the door. “We’re not open for visitors to-”
When the door opened, two royal guards were standing tall before him dressed in their usual armor, and behind them, Princess Luna approached from her chariot. Quill dropped to one knee quickly in a bow when Luna finally reached the doorway.
“Please, your majesty, Quill is more than necessary” Quill said when he rose again. He turned back to see Spirit walk up beside him and bow as well.
“We’re honored by your visit princess, but one of my teammates it very weak at the moment and shouldn’t be disturbed,” Spirit said firmly. Quill nudged him with a back hoof.
“This is Princess Luna you idiot” Quill snapped in a whisper. Spirit was about to argue him until Luna cleared her throat.
“Quill has told me about Mirage’s experience as well, and that is why I am here,” Luna said. She turned back and nodded to another pair of guards that seemed to struggle with a large box of books. “These are ancient books from the Canterlot Library, along with some that Princess Twilight Sparkle said could be useful to our research.”
Quill pranced in place as he looked at the books and tried to hold back a squeal of delight. “These are from Princess Twilight Sparkle herself?” He buzzed with excitement. He barely waited for the box to be set down to rip it open and, quite literally, dive in.
“Forgive me for saying Princess, but if you read our letter then you know this ghost is very powerful. Why not get Princess Twilight and her friends to put an end to it? This is clearly out of the hooves of normal ponies.” Spirit remarked.
Quill popped his head out of the box, balancing a book on his head while he had another in his mouth. He spat the one in his mouth out when he heard Spirit address the princess so harshly.
“Spirit shut up!!” Quill snapped.
Princess Luna smiled at them. “It is alright, I understand his concern.” She replied. She nodded to her guards who closed the door behind them so they could have their privacy. “I fear this creature may be too much for even Twilight Sparkle and her friends to deal with. Their powers of friendship and harmony are of no use against the dead.”
“Then why can’t you or Princess Celestia stop this creature?” Spirit demanded.
Luna didn’t seem entertained by his questioning but she also understood his concerns so she swallowed her distaste and answered anyway. “My sister cannot see the dead. I can see them, but only because I rule the night and my magic isn’t meant to destroy-” Luna cut herself off as if her next word would condemn her for some crime. Which, in a way, it would have.
All knew about her time as Nightmare Moon, and some ponies even speculated that she had brought the ghosts into their world, but again ancient texts suggested they had been around for much longer than her.
Spirit nodded slowly, and they both looked at each other knowing that he hadn’t really meant anything by it, he was just worried. He whipped around quickly when a soft groan from Mirage caught his ear. He rushed to her side and smiled at her when she opened her eyes to him.
“Hey Spirit” She mumbled tiredly. “I’m starving”
“I’ll get you something to eat. Look who’s here to visit though,” He replied and turned a little so she could see Princess Luna.
Mirage gasped and tried to struggle to her hooves but Luna brought her own hoof up to stop her. “Please, continue your rest, I do not need such ceremony.” She urged. Mirage nodded and carefully laid back down.
Spirit left for the kitchen while Quill cleared off the recliner for Princess Luna to sit in. When she was comfortable, Spirit returned with a platter of fresh fruit vegetables and tea cakes, along with some of the finest tea they had.
“It probably isn’t the fine tea you're used to, princess, but it’s the best we have to offer,” Spirit said after pouring her a cup.
“I rather like a wide variety of teas” Luna answered. She lifted the cup with her magic and took a grateful sip, her smile showed she did, in fact, enjoy it. “Now then, I think we should get down to business.”
“Yes of course” Spirit replied then turned to Quill, who was nose deep in a book and scribbling frantically with his pen on a notepad. “Well, it looks like he already started”
Luna hid a chuckle behind her hoof then cleared her throat. “I have asked my sister if she knew anything of Paladins, however, she had no more information than I did.”
Quill looked up from his readings and adjusted his glasses. “There is an old journal here by one of the first ghost hunters” He announced. “It’s written by a mare named Safflower Spell. She says she’s been studying ghost behavior and psychology, and she has a note here saying she thinks that destroying their Tethers may not be the answer to solving the problem but-ugh it’s so smudged and stained- but something-something about talking to them instead”
Luna frowned at the mention of Tethers not being the answer. What other courses could there be? “Does she mention Paladins at all?”
“Well,” Quill continued. “Yes and no, She says something about trying to find Paladins and bringing them back to Equestria, but she’s not clear about what that means.”
Spirit huffed. “Of course not, that would just make this too easy” he muttered bitterly.
“I’m sorry Spirit but it’s all I can find right now” Quill spat. Luna looked between the two of them with some concern.
“Sorry, Princess,” Spirit mumbled.
“Safflower Spell...” Mirage piped up after being quiet for so long. “Does she mention her cutie mark at all?”
Quill flipped through some pages of the journal, then paused on one page with a look of confusion plastered hard on his face.
“It..it’s... yours.” He sputtered and set the book on the table so they could all see the drawing of a will-o-wisp wrapped in a magical aura...
Chapter 1: Don't let it touch you
The icy cold night bit at Mirage’s cheeks and nose. Her hood and cape did little to block the chill, so her body resorted to shivering. She huffed, sending a wispy puff of her own warm breath into the air around her. Mirage’s gaze moved around at the sleeping village. The streets were dead quiet. Not a single pony was awake, save for her friends in the house behind her. It was just a stake out, but Mirage was already on edge. She scratched at the ground with her hoof, listening carefully to the night. The moon was full and nearly at it’s peak, so despite the village being dark and quiet, it had a gentle silvery glow about it. The wind was just a persistent breeze that rustled the trees enough to make it hard for Mirage to listen to what she truly needed to; signs of an otherworldly presence.
Mirage had always been acutely aware of paranormal noises since she was a young filly. She could hear their words, hear their movements, hear their cries if she listened closely. Not many ponies could even recognize a ghost for what it was. For most, it was a vase suddenly falling off of the shelf, or just the faintest ethereal image in the corner of their eye. To Mirage and her team, they were real corporeal things that if you were touched by, you were good as dead. Mirage snorted angrily again as she watched the building.
“Come on,” She groaned in annoyance. “I’m freezing my tail off here.” Her ears flicked forward suddenly then swiveled to catch the noise of glass breaking in the house she was backed up against, then heavy hoofsteps coming down wooden stairs. There was a blood-curdling shriek, then a moment later, a slam from the front door. Mirage started to turn the corner which would lead her to the front door.
She slammed her hooves into the ground suddenly and tried to backpedal as the towering figure of a translucent, hazy stallion appeared before her. Even if he hadn’t been floating a few inches above the ground, he’d have towered over Mirage by a good two or three heads. His coat, though shrouded in a mist of unearthly fog, was a gray color and his mane, which was short and stuck straight up, was little more than white tufts of steam rising from his back. His right forehoof was broken, rotting actually, and hanging by a single, precarious strand of flesh and sinew.
“Have to run” The pony said in a bone-chilling whisper.
If any other pony beside Mirage or one of her teammates had been there, they wouldn’t have heard anything, but the stallion’s presence was so strong that they would have seen him clearly. Mirage stood with her mouth wide open in shock at the stallion before her. They were mere inches apart but Mirage could feel the air around her becoming so cold, that the moisture in the air was on the verge of crystallizing. Her flesh tingled, her fur stood on end, every muscle in her body snapped taught in fear. Her hood fell back; Under her coat, her fur was periwinkle blue with a deeper, darker blue mane and tail. Streaks of black sliced through the dark blue of her mane and hung in a swirl over the left side of her face. Her unicorn horn was wrapped in stalks of lavender that pulsated in a dim purple glow in the presence of the spirit. It was well documented that lavender, silver, iron, salt, magnesium, and light were all weaknesses to the spirits of the other-world, but in small quantities, such as the three stalks wrapped around the unicorn’s horn, they would be nothing more than an irritating mosquito bite to the more powerful of specters. The spirit of the stallion before Mirage seemed completely unfazed by her meager protection. It sensed the life in her, sensed the warmth of her body and the vibrancy of her soul. The stallion reared up on it’s hind legs, then began to drop down, as if to crush Mirage. Mirage clenched her eyes shut, turning her head away from her fate and raising a hoof in a pitiful attempt to stop the inevitable. There was a small explosion and a burst of light, then a shower of flaming salt and magnesium. The blast shattered a hole in the center of the stallion, sending it into a smoky haze. It screamed like a whistle being murdered. The spirit floated away on the night breeze, leaving Mirage unharmed. The unicorn dropped her hoof and nearly collapsed as she tried to catch her breath and regain her composure.
“Mirage!” A friendly, deep, (and most importantly) living, voice called out to her. It was the leader of their little band, flying down from his vantage point above where the ghost stallion had been. He landed among the burning remnants of his bomb and inspected her quickly.
He was a little taller than Mirage, but not by much. He had a beautiful stark white coat, with brilliant white wings. His mane was deep black, and his wide, kind eyes were just as dark. They were deep depths of cool and inviting darkness that beckoned you to become lost in them whenever you stared too long. He wore a dark brown vest with several pockets on the outside and several more on the inside. Each pocket held some type of tool he could use in their missions. Mirage had cast a spell on it when they first became partners to hold more and larger items than it could alone. All he had to do was simply think of the item he needed and reach into the pocket to grab it.
“Ugh..” Mirage groaned as she wobbled to her hooves. “I’m fine Spirit Glider, What happened to the ghost?” She asked, using her magic to fix her mane.
“I blasted it into a million pieces,” Spirit Glider said confidently while puffing his chest out in pride. Mirage puffed a quick breath out of the corner of her mouth, causing her forelock to jump up and out of her face.
“And did you find its Tether?” She asked, ignoring his confidence. Spirit Glider deflated at the question.
“Uh.. no. We didn’t find it.” Spirit sighed, his ears drooping back. “We didn’t even see where the ghost came from. We were looking for Death Spots”
Death Spot was a trade term used to describe the unearthly image of where the deceased had ultimately died. Only Ghost Fighting ponies could see these spots, and most of the time it appeared before the ghost replayed its final moments, like the ghost Mirage had encountered had done, or whatever activity the ghost was involved in during its haunting. Finding a Death Spot was usually a good start to determining why the spirit was still in this world. Ghosts hardly ever stayed just to stay: They usually had some unfinished business of some kind or another, typically it had something to do with the cause of their death.
Ghosts weren’t a new concept to ponies, but they had just been harmless incorporeal annoyances; moving furniture, screaming at night, breaking things and the like. Nothing like what they could do now. If a pony didn’t have “the sense” as Mirage called it, then a ghost in the home was a deadly and dire situation. No one was truly certain when ghosts began killing the living. Many blamed Discord since he had quite literally turned everything upside down so why not raise the dead? There was no true evidence for it though and of course, the legendary draconequus would deny any part in the matter. Even with his denial, there was evidence in the ancient texts that suggested killer ghosts were a much older problem. Since there have been killer ghosts though, Ghost Fighters have been right behind, ready to protect the living and fend off the dead.
Mirage groaned again, tilting her head back as if to get away from Spirit’s very words. “You never look for the Tether!” She scolded loudly. She sighed, calming herself down enough to wrap her cloak around her again to keep out the cold.
“Did you hear it say anything that might help?” Spirit asked, almost completely ignoring her scolding as if it were just a normal part of their conversations. He began walking her back towards the front of the house as they spoke. Mirage shook her head.
“All he said was ‘Have to run’ in the creepiest voice ever. I swear they do it on purpose sometimes.” Mirage sighed.
Mirage suddenly felt the icy, unmistakable chill of a ghost’s presence again. She stopped mid-stride, whipping her head around to try and find the source.
“He’s back.” She whispered, her heart hammering wildly in her chest.
The unicorn tried desperately to calm herself down; Ghost fed readily on emotions, especially fear. Just to the left of her, out of the very corner of her eye, she saw the white mist of a ghostly presence. She spun around rapidly, then her heart sunk. Spirit Glider was staring at her, not yet fully registering what she had told him. Behind him, the ghostly stallion was hovering just inches above him. The specter opened his jaws, far wider than any pony naturally could then leaned over Spirit as if to eat him in one gulp. Mirage reacted quickly, letting loose a spell that created a large puff of lavender pieces into the air. They were just the pieces and the dust that would occur if someone crumpled some lavender, but it was enough to distract the specter long enough for Spirit to notice. Spirit ducked down, rolling across the ground to avoid the ghost.
A small wisping tendril of ghostly haze caught Spirit’s left shoulder as he rolled. Instantly the spot bubbled and hissed as if acid had touched it. His shoulder began to turn blue and swell, sending intense searing pain through him. He cried out in agony as he came out of his roll, then looked down at the wound, inspecting the infection progress. It was slow, but clearly spreading through his shoulder. Blood dripped down his shoulder with a mix of yellowish fluid. He didn’t have time to tend to it though, so he reached into one of his vest pockets while the ghost writhed in agony.
“Locket! Loooockkeeeett!!” The ghost wailed in its deafening screech. Mirage felt her ears throb in pain at the noise. She used her magic to create more lavender bombs to keep distracting the ghost while she waited for Spirit.
“Mirage move!” Spirit yelled. Mirage leaped away as a thin, silver chain net flew over the top of the ghost. It landed right on the mark and as soon as it touched the ghost, it wailed in pain again but only for a few seconds before completely disappearing again. The chain net fell to the ground, still sizzling from other-worldly phasm. There was a brief moment of silence before Mirage rushed over to Spirit’s side and inspected his shoulder.
“Spirit quick, the salve,” She said quickly. Spirit dug through his pockets, producing a small jar of light green ooze. He quickly took a hoof-full and slathered it onto his burning wound. It stung, making him grit his teeth against the pain. Slowly, the blue tinge to his shoulder receded and left an eight-inch patch of blue around his shoulder. It still ached horribly, but he was able to put weight on it and move around easy enough.
“At least it wasn’t a full powered Mark,” Spirit said, chuckling to try and make light of the situation.
Mirage rolled her eyes and pushed her hoof lightly onto the wound, making Spirit squeak in pain. “Keep talking tough guy.” She chuckled.
Spirit smiled once the pain subsided then put the jar away. “I think this is the first time you ever saved my life.” He said, twitching his tail happily.
“Oh please! More like hundredth!” Mirage argued, laughing at him. They turned in unison back towards the front of the house.
A donkey walked out of the house, followed by a short, stubby, and overall heavy earth pony. He was gray with large white patches all over him as if someone were painting a white pony gray and missed a few spots. He had a white blaze on his muzzle that reached back and seemed to bleed into his purple and white mane. He had thick, black, square-framed glasses that he was constantly adjusting with his front left hoof. He was huffing and with every two steps the donkey took, the smaller pony was taking three or four just to keep up.
“ What happened? Did you two see where it went?” The smaller pony demanded in an adenoidal, wheezy, tremulous voice.
He was breathing heavily, evidently coming from trotting down the stairs at what must have been full speed for him. He was breathing so hard and sweating so much that when he hit the cold night air, his glasses had instantly fogged up. He tried to wipe them clean with clumsy hooves until Mirage took the glasses with her levitating magic and a soft cloth then began cleaning them off. The smaller pony squinted his eyes in a futile attempt to see without his glasses on.
“He came right around the corner and nearly touched me,” Mirage said, placing the pony’s glasses back onto his face. He quickly spread all four hooves in an animated act of shock.
“He what!?” The pony demanded. Mystic Quill had a high pitched nasaly voice that was annoying at first, but it grew on you after a while as a sort of sweet funny accent...so long as he wasn’t yelling at you, then it was downright irritating. “Mirage! You should know better!”
Mirage rolled her eyes and puffed out some air from the corner of her mouth again to flick the curl of her forelock out of her face, which had rested back down over her left eye. “Yeah well, Spirit got marked” She tattled like a scolded child.
“Hey!” Spirit whined in a childish manner. Mirage giggled and nudged him with her flank.
“He what!?” Quill nearly screeched. His voice broke and his glasses slanted on his nose again. He quickly fixed them before continuing his barrage. “Spirit are you okay? Did you use the salve? How far did the infection go?” Quill rambled quickly.
Spirit laughed at Quill and lifted a hoof, ruffling the pony’s purple hair and messing up his glasses. “Calm down Quill.” He said, his voice dripping with confidence. “We’re all fine, right Mirage?” He asked turning to the mare, who nodded her agreement.
The donkey had been sitting patiently, by her patience was running thin. She cleared her throat and walked over to the group of ponies while Quill fixed his mane and glasses. “I hate to interrupt,” The donkey said firmly, though Spirit felt that she was, in fact, more than happy to interrupt them. “But did you take care of the ghost?”
“As we mentioned before Mrs. Jennet,” Quill said professionally to the donkey. He closed his eyes for a moment and adjusted his glasses again. “This was merely to observe the spirit and determine its threat level, its behavior, and potentially its Tether or what ties it to the living world. This is the first step in the guaranteed removal of an apparition done by our company, it is always a two-day process..”
Quill had always been the more professional of the three of them and usually handled the customers while Mirage and Spirit were busy cleaning up or tending to their injuries, which happened more often than not.
Mrs. Jennet was so taken aback and impressed by the young pony’s respectable handling of the situation, that she couldn’t read between the lines to what Quill was really saying; “shut up and let us do our job”.
“So you’ll be back tomorrow?” Mrs. Jennet asked. “I’ll have to spend another night in that house with that thing?”
“We’ll give you some wards to help keep any further misconduct by the spirit at bay, but yes you will need to spend another night in the house with it,” Quill said, once again fixing his glasses.
“At least morning isn’t too far off’ Mirage grinned playfully. Quill shot her a harsh glance. She responded with a shrug and pretended she was inspecting her cloak for salt burns.
“Alright..” Mrs. Jennet agreed begrudgingly. “Same time tomorrow night then?” She asked.
“Of course,” Quill said politely and followed her back into the house to provide her with several necessities to keep spirits away.
Once he was finished decorating Mrs. Jennet’s house in various items proven to ward off spirits, Quill came back with the rest of their supplies and they made their way back to their current base of operation. It was a modest little home, three rooms plus an office, two bathrooms, (one of which belonged almost exclusively to Quill to “keep messes to a minimum”) a living room and dining room and kitchen, all of which only separated by furniture and some low walls. The dining room they had converted into their second office and consultant room. There was a large comfy couch, though not as comfy as the one in the living room, a small coffee table and a coffee and tea bar to help settle nervous clients.
Behind the furniture, was a desk that Quill used to document their findings and write up receipts and quotes for customers.Every wall also had a bookshelf full of research books, scrolls, documents and newspaper articles regarding ghost sighting, protection and capture methods. Piles of books were also strewn about the floor, making walking around a bit of a chore. Mirage collapsed rather un-mare like onto the couch in the living room. She stretched herself out and lifted a cookie from the jar on the coffee table with her magic, munching happily on it. Hunting always made her famished and if the boys weren’t careful, she’d eat their meals as well. Spirit Glider practically threw himself into his favorite recliner just across from the couch, then used his wing to cover himself in his favorite Wonderbolts blanket.
He laid his head down on a lumpy old pillow. Quill, of course, headed straight for the dining room to record their late night adventure, but he would soon return to the living room where his own chaise lounge would be waiting for him with his own favorite blanket and a stack of books within a short pony’s reach. None of the group slept in their respective bedrooms often. They preferred the company of the team over the loneliness of their bedrooms. Still, if one of them had a particularly exhausting night or was injured, then they would go to their room and sleep it off, sometimes for three straight days.
“Good job tonight everypony,” Spirit said behind a long loud yawn. His tail flicked happily under his blanket and he nestled deeper into the recliner, looking like a dog curled up in their dog bed.
“Yeah, good job,” Mirage said after finishing off her cookie. She yawned, then curled up on the couch with a blanket and pillow of her own before quickly falling asleep.
Quill stayed up well into the night, as he usually did, reading. He read mostly history books, books on ghosts, and books written by famous ghost hunters on catching ghosts. He spent little time reading about anything else besides ghost, although Mirage had noticed on a few occasions that in the wee hours of the morning, Quill would be muzzle deep in a Daring Do book or some other type of adventure book, no doubt imagining himself as a brave and heroic pony, leaping across treacherous ravines in single bounds or rescuing a young beautiful mare from a dismal fate. Quill eventually went to sleep just a couple hours before the sun began to rise. Just as the sun peaked playfully over the mountains to the east and splashed a golden thin ray of light into the three friends’ home, a letter came wafting through the slight crack in the window frame and landed elegantly on the coffee table in the living room. It was addressed to the three ponies by name and signed
“Princess Luna” ...
