A Silver Thread of Fate

If ever there was a time where I would want to hug somepony, it’s right now. Maybe it’s the subtle and not so subtle changes that have been affecting me psychologically and physiologically, or maybe it’s because I feel safe around her, but I’d like nothing more than to just wrap my forelegs around her front in as close an approximation of a crushing bear hug as is feasible for a pony my size. Then again, I could just be somewhat muddled from the anesthetic and painkillers.

Ah what the fuck.

In spite of the dull ache in my chest and my unsteady gait, I trot up to her and throw my forelegs around her neck. “Master Corporal Evening Script!” I cry, still unsure of why I’m so exuberant to see her. “It’s so good to see you!”

She seems taken aback by how I’m behaving. Had I ever shown any inclination of being touchy-feely with her? Maybe this is another symptom of what I did after killing the changeling... of purging parts of Soren from my psyche.

“Whoa there, ya little idjit. Didja forget you’re supposed to be getting purged of demonic contamination?” she practically squeaks, pushing my head down and trying to free herself from my hug. “What’d be the point of that if ya go and contaminate me too?”

... good point.

She grins and pats me atop my head. “Besides, it’s Sergeant now.”

I release my grasp, but not before giving her neck a quick nuzzle. She stares at me with a raised eyebrow for a long moment as I retreat a respectable distance away. Still, I smile at her warmly.

“Congrats! So I take it you’re here to escort me to my exorcism?” I ask with a strange exuberance. Seriously, what’s up with me? My smile turns into a smirk as I tilt my head. “Or are you just visiting your favorite deranged midget, hoping for a nightmare to snack on? Pretty sure I’m gonna be having plenty of those.”

Eve slowly turns to nurse Redheart with a look of worry. “Is she alright?” she asks. “She was erratic before she left Canterlot, but this is something else.”

Redheart slowly shakes her head. “She’s been all over the place since she was brought in with a concussion and broken ribs,” she replies in a curt tone, as though she wishes to say more. She probably would if I weren’t right here. “I don’t think she’s ever been in a right state of mind in all the times she’s been to this hospital, though. Honestly, she needs therapy.”

I stomp my hooves petulantly as I narrow my eyes at her. “I considered flirting with you, but now that I know you wanna send me to my own personal hell...” I huff and point my nose in the air. “I’d sooner have my soul pried from my body and have my demons stripped from it.”

The nurse looks like she’s about to give Eve a dry-humored, “You see what I mean?” That comment drops dead in her throat when she sees the change wash over Eve’s face. That look of worry morphs into grim acceptance.

I was a little high when Twilight filled me in on what’s going to happen, but honestly, it’s pretty fucking horrifying. The more I think about it, the more I remember. When I was talking about having my soul separated from my body and have the demons ripped out? That wasn’t some sort of warped metaphor.

The exorcist is going to literally pull my soul part-way out of my body. This ritual is incredibly dangerous not just because they need to be able to overpower the bonds that shackle my spirit to my body, but because they need to be delicate enough to not completely rip out my soul while the soul gem is present.

That’s right. A motherfucking soul gem: a magic rock that sucks up and contains souls. That demon fragment’s getting locked in a gem and thrown into the depths of Tartarus. This shit goes bad? My entire soul ends up locked in that gem with it. No getting to see the afterlife for me. Just an eternity... waiting, wishing for death.

“Ye sure, Penny?” Eve asks through clenched teeth. I can just make out one of her fangs pinching her lip—like she’s holding herself back from saying something. “I’ve been where you’re gonna be standing; gotta say, it’s feckin’ horrific.”

With a nod, I say, “Aunt Twilight told me.” I swallow and stand by the door. “I’m ready.”

~ 15 ~

Honestly, it’s kind of a shame that I’m not allowed to go into this without a limiter band. If I had just five minutes of unrestricted magic, I could very well do something with my mane. Sure, they cleaned me up when Aunt Twilight and the others brought me in, but now that I’m up and actually moving through the halls, I can feel just how bad my mane’s gotten. Whatever they did to clean it, it was more to sterilize it and get the blood out than actually wash it, so the ends are splitting in spots and it feels... ragged.

I swear it’s not that I want to look pretty in the unlikelihood that I die during the ritual.

Then there’s the fact that I’m starting to feel fidgety as the drugs wear off. I’ve grown so used to letting out a certain amount of magic each day that it feels wrong to not use it. Like an addiction... a desire... a biological need. That might just be the routine talking though.

Then again, it’s probably also the fact that my reservoir hasn’t been drained or actively siphoned off into my mana battery for some time. All sorts of mana built up in the system, and it has nowhere to go. This could be interesting...

Still, it’s kinda weird being escorted by Eve with a nurse flanking me. It’s kinda like I’m I’m a prisoner. I don’t like it. I don’t like this limiter. I don’t like not being able to use my magic.

Eventually, we reach an operating theater. Redheart separates from us at the door. When Eve and I enter, I’m surprised that there’s no magic suppression wards present; just a hairless unicorn tattooed with many of the wards on the door of the room I’d been contained in.

It’s really strange seeing a stallion without fur or a mane, especially one who’s been tattooed in red ink. I suppose when you’re fighting demons, the best way to avoid contamination is to make your body a temple, so to speak.

“Thank you, Sergeant,” the stallion says. Igniting his horn, he pushes her backward out of the operating theater. He turns to me and smiles, his vibrant amber eyes aglow with some sort of eldritch energy. “So you’re the great hunter?” It’s not a teasing tone, or one of disbelief—amusement, maybe. There’s no malice, either. Just a simple confirmation.

No point in being rude, Penny. “Yes, sir,” I reply with a bob of my head. “I’m Silver Penny, sir.”

I half expect him to offer a hoof to shake, but he mimics my movement. “Well met, Silver Penny, daughter of Shining Armor.” There’s a bit of amusement as he says daughter, but it doesn’t sound mocking. “I am Ardent Soul of the Royal Guard Exorcist Corps.”

His lips part as his smile grows wider, revealing sharpened teeth. I’m not talking about teeth that are naturally sharp, like a bat pony’s incisors, or a dragon’s fangs; no, these are filed down, ritualistically, if the runes inscribed on his teeth are any indicator.

Ardent looks past me, and his brow arches. “And who is that?” he asks, sounding a lot more interested.

I follow his gaze, and catch sight of a silver pony slipping backwards through the wall. Sure enough, it’s the familiar specter of Silver Script... Why does she look so alarmed though? Why would her feathers bristle and her hackles raise?

“Is that your mother?” he offers softly. “You’re the spitting image of her.”

I stand there, mouth frozen mid-thought. “I... wait, you can see her?”

He nods once. “I see spirits wherever I go,” he explains. His smile falters somewhat. “Were it not for your recent experience with a demon, I’d be more surprised that you can see her.”

A chill runs down my spine as I stare at the spot where Silver Script passed through the wall. She’s not just a hallucination... A demon hunter can see her. But if that’s the case...

“She can’t be my mother,” I croak. I want to tell him my otherworldly origin, but my voice freezes in my throat whenever I try to give the words life. “I thought she was supposed to be a hallucination that I was experiencing because of the concussion.”

“Something to discuss after the ritual, then.”

He leads me over to the center of the room. Etched on the floor in chalk is a very intricate circular pattern. I can make out a circumscribed pentagram as the basis of it, but a lot of the runes and patterns are lost on me.

“I need you to stand here,” Ardent instructs me. He points at a small circular spot at the center of the pentagram. “No matter what happens, I need you to remain conscious and within the circle. Otherwise, your soul will likely be entirely separated from your body. Do I make myself clear?”

Yikes, I think to myself. No pressure or nothing. Just don’t pass out from pain, yeah?

I nod.

He crosses the room. A fair distance away, he takes his place in a smaller, but more densely-runed pentacle. Makes sense that he’d want his own extra layer of protection, despite the tattoos.

Between us, I finally notice a strange construction that I initially mistake for a small brazier. It’s just three wooden dowels crossed at their midpoints. It’s constructed to hold up a small stoneware dish.

What’s in the dish is what really fascinates me: a tall egg of quartz crystal. What’s so fascinating about it is the fact that it’s floating completely free of gravity, crackling with energy. If I didn’t already know what it was, I’d almost say it was beautiful. Unfortunately, knowing that it’s a soul gem gives it a foreboding look to it.

As Ardent begins to channel his spell, a gold light fills the room. There’s no source at first glance... until I look down at the circle I stand inside. Where once chalk lay on the floor, only blinding golden light remains. In fact, as I look on, the rest of the room seems to fade.

The room continues to fade, slowly becoming a featureless black void. My eyes flick from the soul gem to the operating theater viewport. A cold chill runs through my veins as I just catch sight of Aunt Twilight before that too disappears into the void.

Eventually, only the soul gem, the exorcist, the gold light, and I remain. Even though my hooves don’t appear to be touching anything, I can still feel the ground beneath me; it does nothing to comfort me, though.

You know what else doesn’t comfort me much? Chains made of the same golden light shooting up out of the circle to ensnare me. Shackles form around my neck and legs where the chains crossed, and then the chains connected to them go taut. It’s not pulling strong enough to force me to the ground, but my limbs are certainly not able to move at all.

“May Celestia’s light guide me through this darkness,” comes Ardent’s voice in a low whisper, “and bless my magic as I do her bidding.”

Is this a prayer of some sort? I can’t help but wonder as another, transparent chain surfaces from the void. Or is it an ingrained part of the ritual?

“May Luna watch over this vessel in this moment on the edge of darkness,” comes his whisper again, “and watch over her soul, should worst come to worst.”

Upon the brazier, the soul gem begins to glow a ghostly blue. It begins to rotate slowly, before speeding up. A low whine begins to fill the darkness, and before long, I can’t even hear the whisperings of the exorcist. In fact, I can’t even see him here in the void now. It’s just me and the soul gem.

“Y’know, for something that represents the grim fate that awaits me should this fail,” I whisper aloud to myself, “It sure is beautiful...”

Maybe it’s because I’ve started to pay so much attention to the gem, but I have barely any time to react when a chained ethereal spear launches at me from the void.

At first, I’m confused, because I know getting speared through the chest is supposed to hurt like hell. Then a confusing sensation of a tug and something... expanding within my very being fills the area of my chest. Not the strangest thing in the world, but it’s pretty out there.

I look down at the spot where the thing is sticking out of me. Where I should see my grey coat of fur, instead I see only a transparent blue shape. Is this normal? Part of me wonders if that’s truly the color of a bound soul, or if it’s an effect of the ritual...

A glance behind me reveals that my soul is protruding from where I remember the spear piercing me, approximately halfway down the length of me. It’s just my ethereal body, forelegs, and head... apparently.

Yet as I return to staring down at my soul’s chest, where the gold chain and spear still protrude, I see something else... a large, red mass writhing near where my heart would be. Fear and revulsion race through my mind. The contamination.

As if reading my thoughts, I hear Ardent’s voice once more. “Good, you’ve already recognized the blight upon your soul...” he says in the tone of a teacher proud of a student’s discovery. “Can you feel it, though?”

I close off my senses as one would close their eyes, turning my attention inward toward where the mass is. Almost immediately, I wish I hadn’t. The memory of the scent of rotting flesh fills my mind. A flash of an unending army of maggots and worms soon follows.

Nopony can blame me for recoiling. Nope.

“Though you may want to pull back, the next part of the ritual is all you,” he apologizes. “I need you to push the presence out of your body, and that unfortunately means you’re going to have to make contact with it.”

Well that doesn’t sound good...

Again, I reach inward. A struggle erupts between the conscious and instinctive parts of my mind. I know I’ve gotta get this thing out of me, but I also don’t want to touch it. Even as I force myself to wrap it, as I once tried to wrap Discord’s magic, with my willpower, another moment of fear washes over me. Wouldn’t by touching it, I risk further spreading the contamination?

Revulsion spreads through my stomach as I turn my focus to pushing this writhing mass of demonic energy out of my soul. Again and again, the smell of rot graces my mind, and the touch of worms crawling across my skin churns my very being.

I glance back at my body, and look into my own face. Tears are streaming from my eyes, and my legs tremble. Heck, my entire body is shaking.

Is it terror? Or exertion? It’s probably a combination of both.

I can’t fail at this, though. If I don’t, I’ll likely need to be put down. It’s not narcissistic to say that mages with a lot of potential are the worst sort to turn demon. Sure, it’d be cool for my power to increase tenfold but...

The red mass in my ethereal body pulses in response to the thought. It begins to radiate a feeling of... pride?

“If it’s power you seek, I can give it.”

Don’t listen to it. Keep pushing!

“You want to keep those you care about from hurting...”

That much is true, I suppose. Then again, this could be a trick.

“It’s no trick, little hunter.” Moon preserve me, it’s speaking to me in the voice of the blightwolf now. “With the power I could grant you, you could bring the entire nation to its knees. No pony would ever hurt again.”

An image begins to fill the darkness around me: a full view of the lands surrounding Canterlot, which means that I’d have to be at the top of the mountain, Canterhorn. Everything is almost as I remember, but the lands look... wrong—swampy even.

My attention shifts to Canterlot itself. The once illustrious city of spires and domes is but a crumbling shell of its former glory. Much of the city lies in festering ruin, with ponies milling about like zombies... and given the way their bloated flesh is festering and hanging off them, it’s probably not far from the mark.

I’m not alone on the mountain, though... A pony stands beside me. She’s tall like the princess, but gaunt, like her pelt is stretched across a skeleton too large for it. Her patchy grey coat is matted with blood and filth... and in addition to her unicorn horn, two horns similar to that of an ibex erupt from the top of her head. Her naked spade-tipped tail flicks back and forth as she looks out across the ruined landscape.

She turns to look at me...

I turn to look at myself...

... and I scream at what I would become.

... and I scream for my lost innocence.

~ 15 ~

It was one thing for Twilight to read up on the ritual, but it was another for her to actually see it firsthoof. No amount of study prepared a pony to witness what she could only describe as a perversion of nature and harmony. That it was happening to Penny just made it all worse, but it had to be this way.

At the very start of the ritual, she’d noticed a black mist taking form, obscuring the room. Despite this, she never noticed her view of Penny, the soul gem, or Ardent Soul growing any weaker. It just killed any hint of the room.

“What is that blackness, anyway?” the bat pony sergeant beside her asked. “I remember it being all kinds of spooky that time I’d been purged after gettin’ into it with a lesser rage demon.”

The opportunity to share knowledge with somepony else wasn’t enough to fully push the fear she held for her niece from her mind, but she nonetheless appreciated it. Turning her head to Eve, she said, “It’s a cloud of specially charged mana particles that sustain and render spirits visible.” Her eyes flicked back to the small unicorn being exorcised as her soul was ripped free of her body. “A pony’s soul can’t exist outside their body long before departing for the afterlife, unless there’s something binding them there, be it unfinished business or a magic field like this.”

She gestured at the cloud and the spirit of Silver Penny. “It was initially used by a very powerful necromancer to make it easier to reap the souls lingering on the battlefield after his undead army slaughtered all who opposed him.” A grimace split her face at the thought of magic being used like that. “After he was defeated, the Exorcist Corps acquired the spell and have used it for centuries to make the purging ritual safer.”

Although that didn’t kill the conversation entirely, it did leave a heavy pall over the group. Although the ritual was safer, it was by no means perfect; anypony could tell how torturous this was for the small unicorn written clear on her face. They could see it written plain as day that she was struggling her hardest to come out of this alive.

With a sudden shriek of terror, Penny ejected the mass of demonic energy from her soul. The red mass floated free of her body and soul for a moment before the soul gem began pulling it in at an alarming rate. All the while, the very window of the viewing gallery rattled.

Twilight had to remind herself that it was physically impossible for that small of a pony to exert that much force with her voice without being an alicorn... but Penny wasn’t an alicorn. She was a unicorn, so the only way she could possibly cause the room was...

“Shite, would ye lookit that!” the bat pony beside her practically shouted. She gesticulated wildly with one blue-gray hoof in Penny’s direction. “How feckin’ strong’s that filly gotten!? Our informant said she’d only need a B-class limiter at best; this is at least an A-class situation!”

Following the sergeant’s gaze, she locked eyes on the tiny unicorn once more. Eyes clamped shut, still screaming away. At first, there wasn’t any sign that she was using any magic whatsoever: not even a faint corona around the tip. That wasn’t entirely accurate though. There was a strong blue corona, but it terminated close to the base of her horn where the obsidian limiter had been placed.

Narrowing her eyes, Twilight could make out tiny white hairline cracks adorning the hexagonal ring. They were quickly spreading, too. Her eyes widened at the sight and she froze. She’s overpowering it!?

Evening Script, who had experience with explosive ordinance and the results of ponies overpowering a limiter, reacted much quicker.

“Get down!” she shrieked as she threw herself across Twilight and Nurse Redheart. There was a loud bang, followed by the tinkle of broken glass as the glass panel separating the viewing shattered inward. Obsidian shards raced through the air where their heads once stood.

Shards of glass fell upon them like rain, and among it all, a single loud pop erupted above them. A weight landed atop the pony pile. For a while, nopony dared move, for fear that they’d cut themselves on the fallen glass.

“By Tartarus, child!” came Ardent Soul’s voice. “What in the nine hells have you done!?”

Hearing this, Twilight struggled out from beneath Evening Script and Redheart. She dislodged whatever had come to rest atop the bat sergeant in the process, and quickly scrambled over to the operating theater window. What she saw there caused her stomach to sink.

There in the darkness, staring at her own lack of a body, was Penny. A tremor wracked her ethereal form as she slowly began to drift to the soul gem. She looked wildly about the room.

“W-where’s my body!?” she cried, trying and succeeding to fight the pull of the gem. “What happened to my body!?”

Twilight looked back at Redheart and Evening Script gathered around something on the floor. It was the body of a small, silver-grey filly that the three of them knew very well by this point.

It was Penny, and she wasn’t breathing. Almost immediately, Eve swooped in and began chest compressions on the unmoving filly. The shock wore off for Redheart as she rushed from the spot she was standing to the door, calling for a crash team.

Looking back to the operating theater, Twilight frowned. Although Penny was able to keep herself away from the soul gem, she was clearly losing ground. Despite the continuous running motion her soul was making, it was gradually getting closer to that life-drinking stone.

“Penny!” she cried out. “Your body is out here!”

It seemed that the filly’s soul couldn’t hear her. She just kept on trying to distance herself from the gem, and it was clear that panic was beginning to set in. Run as she might, if something didn’t happen soon, she’d be stuck with whatever other beings were bound to the stone.

All the while, Ardent seemed to have just frozen at Twilight’s words. “She’s outside the ritual field?” His eyes snapped to something Twilight couldn’t immediately see. “I don’t know if you’re the young lady’s mother, or if you’re some kind of guardian spirit,” he called out, focusing somewhere opposite of Penny. “She’s not going to be able to get back into her body without your help. This magic field is all that is keeping her bound to this world, so unless she hitches a ride on an earthbound spirit, she doesn’t have long.”

Twilight flinched. She knew the others wouldn’t let her just move the filly’s body. If they were actively trying to resuscitate her, they weren’t likely paying attention to what was going on in there, and they might not realize what had happened, even if she voiced what she was hearing.

Just as she was about to forcibly move Penny’s body back into the room, she froze. Where the exorcist was staring, the shape of a translucent pegasus mare took form. What in Equestria?

The resemblance was stunning, to say the least. If Twilight hadn’t known Penny’s heritage, she’d definitely have considered the possibility that this was an ancestor, but... that couldn’t be the case... Surely not even Discord would alter reality to that degree just to give Penny a guardian angel.

Strangely enough, when the ghost mare saw Twilight, a sad smile crossed her face. It was as though the pony knew Twilight somehow... With a quick nod to the watching unicorn, she spread her ghostly wings and rocketed forth.

Like a mother cat snatching up a kitten, this pegasus spirit nabbed the back of the neck of Penny’s soul and carried her forward. Maybe it was the residual magic from the ritual site, or maybe it was because the mare was sustaining Penny’s own soul, but as the ghostly pair crossed the threshold, neither became imperceptible to the naked eye.

The bat pony and the earth pony looked up in confusion as they heard the voice of the pegasus ghost call out. “Soul delivery! Outta the way!”

Both ponies visibly shivered as the two souls passed through they quickly snapped their attention back to Penny as both souls sank into her unmoving body. There was a sudden cry of “Oh shit!” from the pegasus as she too entered the body.

The horn of the unconscious filly ignited, bathing the room in a bright light. Green and blue energy danced about her horn, wrapping her in a cocoon of energy. So intense was the surge of magic that everypony was forced to take a step back, that’s how much physical pressure it was exerting.

With a loud crack, the energy dispersed in a wave that blew back everypony’s manes. When the light was clear, there lay Penny, exactly as they’d left her... only there was something strange... Penny didn’t have wings, so why was there a large wing covering her side?

“Um, long time no see, Twilight...” came Penny’s voice in a more mature tone she’d heard only once or twice before. “Now, don’t freak out...”

~ 15 ~

“Penny! Catch!” Dad calls out from across the meadow. A crystal hoofball levitates before him, ebbing gently in the same breeze that ruffled his blue mane. The way his bright blue eyes glisten in the sun fills me with a strange warmth.

He throws the ball, and I begin running after it. If my magic was stronger, I’d probably try to catch it, but as it stands, I don’t think I could get a good grip on it. Maybe in a few years, when I’m stronger, but Auntie Twilight says a filly my age shouldn’t push themselves too hard.

Either way, I’m content to just throw myself into the air and wrap my limbs around it just before it hits the ground. Sure, I get a bit dirty as I tumble across the grass, but it’s fun playing with Daddy. Only good, active fillies can join the guard and protect ponies like he does, and I wanna be so strong that I can protect him, Mommy, and all of Equestria!

The only problem with playing with a ball so big is that I can’t carry it myself, and instead have to push it back to him with my head. It probably looks super silly, but Mommy always giggles when I do silly things.

“Why don’t you two come eat before you get too dirty?” Almost on queue, there’s Mommy with her laugh. From the nearby picnic setup, she waves a pink hoof at me and Daddy. “Even if you don’t want to be a princess, what’s important in public?”

I stop for a moment and think while the ball tumbles away. “Mmm, proper dem... demeanor and politeness?”

She smiles at me from the picnic blanket. “That’s right!” Mommy says with pride. She lifts one of her wings and pats the blanket at her side with one hoof. With her wing lifted like this, I see her big belly, where my little brother or sister is.

With a happy cheer, I pronk over to her and snuggle up under her wing, which she wraps around me in a snug embrace. Wing-y ponies like Mommy and Auntie Twilight’s friend Fluttershy are so fluffy and warm. It makes me feel safe... and sleepy, but maybe that’s because bed is safe? Is that why baby ponies grow in momma ponies?

Despite the sandwich Mom’s already levitating out to me, I can’t help but doze off to the warmth and the sound of her heartbeat. It’s too nice... too serene.

Through my eyelids, I catch a bright flash.

“Aww, now ain’t that sweet?” a familiar voice says. “I’m sendin’ this to the Captain and the Princess for sure.”

I groan and nuzzle further into my mother’s side. “Mum, make the mean guard go away...” I whine in a petulant tone. “So... sleepy.”

“You heard Little Me,” a familiar voice replies. Huh? That’s not Mommy’s voice... That’s... “The mean guard can go send her backmail photo and let the psychotic midget sleep.”

My head jerks up, my eyes snapping open to stare at the speaker. Instead of Mommy Princess Cadance, there is the pony I keep seeing, Silver Script, in the flesh... and for some reason, she’s got one of her wings draped over me as a mother would a foal.

Error.

Penny.exe has stopped working.

Book can check online for a solution for the problem, but one will not be forthcoming.

Closing Penny.exe

... Restarting.

What the actual fuck? I stare at the mare, here on a hospital bed with me. This isn’t the quarantine room, but a regular hospital room. But she’s some kind of ghost! How in the nine hells?

“Good job,” Evening Script teases from near the door. She leans against the wall, smirking despite the cuts all over her face and back. Turning to exit, she gives a guffaw. “You broke yourself.”

No. No. No no no no no. When Silver Script visited me before, she was a ghost! I couldn’t even touch her! I can touch her now, however. Does that mean that... I’m a ghost?

The image of a floating stone rotating in the blackness fills my mind’s eye.

That’s it then... I think to myself. My soul has been locked away in the soul gem, and I got Silver Script trapped in here with me.

I bury my face in her neck and just weep. It’s not fair! I did everything right, up until... that panic attack. Why did this happen to me? Is it because I wasted my second chance at life? I could’ve gone and allowed myself to have a second childhood. Instead, I went and put myself in danger to help keep ponies safe. I was going to go spend time with Dad and Mom.

I want my Dad...

At some point, my crying gives way to childish gibbering. Silver Script, bless her heart, just sits there and takes it, wrapping me in a full hug. Maybe things won’t be so bad trapped here with her for all eternity.

“I’m so sorry you’re trapped in this soul gem with me,” I finally manage to get out. “You were just looking out for me; you don’t deserve this!”

Much to my surprise, she laughs. “You’re not trapped in a rock, Penny,” she replies in a voice that eases all the tension in my body and makes me feel safe. It reminds me of my birth mother. “You’re safe in a hospital bed in a normal room now.”

Pulling my face away to look at her, I frown. “Bitch, I wasn’t born yesterday,” I grumble in a tone of false bravado. I wipe my tear-streaked face with a hoof. “I can touch you, and you’re a ghost, so that means...” I sniff. “It means I’m dead.”

Silver Script looks at me with sadness in her eyes. She wants to say something, but she way she scrunches her muzzle says, ‘I know nothing I say is going to reach you at this point.’

Then, there comes a knock at the door. I scramble away from the pegasus just in time to see the exorcist, Ardent Soul, smiling at me with those creepy rune-etched teeth bared. “Allow me to explain,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Miss Script here was once a denizen of the Nexus of Souls: the afterlife of the multiverse. She is, or rather was, an alternate iteration of you.”

From his horn, he projects an image of a waterfall coming into existence in the sky and intersecting an infinite grassy plain. Massive gates line the banks to either side of the river created by the falls. There’s a small island bisecting the river, and opposite of the waterfall is a massive steaming pit into which the river feeds. Just seeing it makes me feel weird, like I’ve been there before.

“For whatever reason, one of the Shepherds of the Nexus, probably Epona or Veles, saw fit to grant her the role of guardian spirit for you.” He looks from me to her, and his smile falters. “When she aided in returning your soul to its body, there was an interaction with your magic.”

Script pats me on the head as I gawp at Argent. “Long story short, you gave me a short-lived magical body, and because I was technically resurrected... I get to go back to the Elysian Fields once this body goes away. Probably by this evening.”

Now out from under her wing, I can see that only the front half of her is complete. At her hips, little motes of blue-green light occasionally flit away from our body. Everything else is just... gone.

Wait... I resurrected her? Does that mean that I accidentally performed necromancy? My eyes widen as I look back to the exorcist unicorn. My lips purse together into a thin line as I chance a look to the door.

Necromancy is a form of dark magic. Only approved mages are even allowed to apply for licensing. Am I going to be arrested now? I’m too young to go to jail!

Seemingly picking up on my distress, Silver hugs me close. “Ardent and I discussed it and our background,” she croons. “You didn’t do any intentional magic, and it can all officially be chalked up as a surge. Won’t be any different from previous ones on your medical record.”

Ardent Soul nods and levitates over a small manilla folder. “Although I’ll be informing Princesses Celestia and Luna of the true nature of your guardian spirit, this is what will be available on the official record.”

Reflexively channeling a telekinesis spell, I’m surprised to find I’m not locked down. For several quiet moments, I flick through the document, glancing it over. Successfully purged, yada yada yada, retired S.M.I.L.E. Agent Sweetie Drops reports on power levels incorrect, blah blah blah, accidentally channeled her mother’s spirit into a corporeal form... Keep away from demons.

Affixed to this sheet is a picture of me sleeping soundly, cuddled up beneath Silver Script’s wing. We really do look like mother and daughter... The more I gaze at the picture, the more of Shining Armor I see in myself, though. Come to think of it, our horns have the same spiral fluting, my fringe is growing in wavy like his... Hell, even our cheek bones look the same. In another life, would he have bedded Silver Script? Would the two of them created a filly just like me?

I levitate the folder back to him and nod. “I understand.” I slide back beneath Silver’s wing and sigh contentedly. “I guess there’s nothing left to do but spend what time I have left with my ‘mother’.”

As he turns to leave, he adds, “Your aunt should be back later. Apparently there was a major bidding war for the blightwolf carcass, and as your guardian, your aunt was left to decide whether it would go to the crown or the proxy for one of the noble houses. She was left with little choice but to have a bank account set up in your name.”

“Journey safely to wherever your hooves call home,” I say, shutting my eyes.

“May the sun and moon keep all our homes safe,” is his quiet reply. “Stars watch over and guide you, little one.”

Left with Silver Script, I have little else to do but lie there. After everything I’ve been through, I’m still plenty tired, and even though it’d be interesting to talk to my other self about the life she lived, I’d like nothing more than to go back to dreaming about being with Mom and Dad in the field.

My lids once more grow heavy as Silver Script contents herself in comforting me, humming softly and warming me with her body. In the end, I’m left with one final thought.

How long has Bon-Bon been spying on me?