One

“Daisy?” Twilight asked cautiously as she poked her head inside her neighbor's house. “It’s me, Twilight! Are you home?”

There wasn't a response. This wasn't shocking, given the past week’s events. Over the past five days, she had searched through much of the town.

Unfortunately for Twilight, luck hadn’t been on her side. She was only able to scrounge up enough food to fight off starvation for a month, at most. However, it might just buy her enough time to come up with an exit strategy.

'Maybe Daisy will surprise me with a food stockpile,' Twilight thought hopefully, though she knew better. Based on how things were going, she'd be lucky to collect another week's worth of food from the remaining houses.

Not hearing a response from her neighbor, Twilight slipped inside, gently shutting the door behind her.

Daisy’s house was a small two-story cottage with the living area and kitchen on the bottom level and two bedrooms upstairs. Twilight preferred to search the bedrooms first for survivors, so she walked towards the staircase. She paused as she approached the first step, spotting a collection of photographs taken of Daisy and her husband, with whom Twilight was not acquainted. Her gaze lingered on a particular photo: their wedding photo.

Twilight frowned as she took in the photograph, her mind wandering as she thought about the mare in the picture. She hadn't gotten to know Daisy exceedingly well, but she was a regular at the library. She stopped in every Friday after work to pick up a few books and drop off the previous week’s supply of literature.

The last time she saw Daisy, she had confided in Twilight how stressful her job is. Apparently, selling flowers can be a rather cutthroat business. She told the librarian how the only thing that helped her relax was a nice mystery novel, accompanied by a tall glass of red wine. This was a sentiment Twilight could completely understand. 

The two of them had talked for a while longer. Eventually, Daisy had to excuse herself, saying that her husband would be home soon. She promised to bring by some freshly baked blueberry muffins next time she stopped by the library.

Twilight never got those muffins.

She was ripped from her thoughts as she smelt it: that same stench from yesterday, lingering in the stairwell. The sickly sweet scent of death.

Twilight tried to keep her composure as she trailed the source of the smell upstairs, which led her to a closed door adjacent to the staircase. A pit formed in her stomach as Twilight's gaze lingered on the door handle. A shiver ran down the length of her spine as every fiber of her being begged her not to open that door.

Yet, Twilight knew she needed to open it. Something inside her already knew what laid in wait on the other side, but she had to confirm it.

Reluctantly, Twilight pushed the door open. It creaked loudly as it gradually swung open, revealing the bedroom inside a little bit at a time. She saw a corner wall first, followed by a nightstand, occupied by a stack of familiar looking books and empty pill bottles. A wine bottle lay knocked over on the furthest edge of the table, its contents long gone.

Then the bed came into her line of sight. Twilight gasped reflexively when she first spotted the decrepit hoof sticking out of the bed. The rest of the room revealed itself as the door opened all the way. She felt a tightness form in her chest as Twilight looked over the pair of bodies occupying the bed.

It was Daisy and her husband. Their corpses were laid on their backs, their gazes permanently fixed on each other as their hooves kept the two of them connected long after death. They had mostly rotted away by now. All that was left were bones and what little remained of their coats.

The smell wasn’t as bad this time, nothing like what Twilight had encountered at Fluttershy's cottage. She wasn't sure if she was just starting to get used to scent or if the smell had just dissipated.

Her gaze only lingered for a few brief moments before she backed out of the room and softly closed the door behind her. Twilight hesitated outside the door, a small part of her wanting to give the couple a proper burial. She decided against it. She couldn't bear the thought of separating the two and further disturbing their peace.

Instead, she made a bee-line for the front door. She didn't grab any supplies or even her old books. She had disturbed Daisy’s peace enough.

Twilight tried to move onto other homes after that, but no matter what she tried, she couldn’t shake Daisy from her mind. She decided to call it an early day. She figured she could search the last few remaining houses in the morning.

Twilight returned to her study and sat at her desk. Her words formed in her head as she stared at the fresh piece of scroll, her quill dipped in ink and hovering at the ready above the piece of paper.

“Dear Princess Celestia,” she dictated to herself. As she wrote, visions of Daisy’s decrepit body flashed before her eyes once more. She bit down on her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, as fresh tears rolled down her cheek. “I have concluded my search of Ponyville. Unfortunately, the town has already been ransacked, so I only found a few week's worth of food.”

Twilight tried to blink away the tears, her breathing labored as she fought the desire to break down and cry away the rest of the evening. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the sight of her neighbors’ remains out of her head. She decided to jot out her experience. Maybe Celestia would have some wisdom to share with her, if her mentor would even respond, that is.

“I found an acquaintance of mine. Her and her husband.” A whimper escaped her throat as she held back a sob, before she continued to write. “They’re dead. Whatever happened, it looks like they took the easy way out. I didn’t see any sign of anypony else. Ponyville is a ghost town.”

Twilight didn't know where else to go with the letter, so she wrapped it up and signed off on it.

However, she paused short of rolling it up to send it off.

It had been a week, and like everypony else, Celestia’s whereabouts were too a mystery. In the past, she had never left Twilight without a response. Yet, here she was, doubting the princess would even get back to her.

“I wish you’d write me back,” Twilight vented as she wrote out her words on the bottom of the scroll. “Your lack of response has been worrying. Are you even getting these? Please, write back to me!”

Twilight choked on another sob as she placed aside her quill. Sending it off in her current state ended up being more difficult than expected, but she managed to pull it off. The scroll disappeared with a pop and a small flash.

With her distraction now gone, the full brunt of Twilight's sorrow hit her. She leaned forward, burying her face in her hooves as she broke down, the tears now rolling freely down her cheeks. There she remained all night long, crying until sleep granted her a brief reprise from her suffering.