The Ghost: Assorted Adventures

The Ghost and Rarity found themselves surrounded. The encroaching tide of their enemy hissed and snarled, dripping a familiar clear bile from their mandibles. Pale eyes glowed a haunting green as the duo searched for a means of escape. The larger one hung back, keeping a hoof close to one wing, but sent a chilling hiss toward their soon-to-be victims.

“Rarity,” the Ghost said, placing a hoof around her waist. “This is your warning.”

The Ghost heaved him and Rarity in a circle, sending the edge of his cloak hurtling towards his enemies as a shadowy flail. It landed with a crunch, before retracting and shooting out once more to the shelves above. No scream came from Rarity as they ascended, instead electing to fire thin, brilliant bolts of arcane power from her horn as cover. The buzzing of insectoid wings followed close behind.

The duo landed and unleashed their flurry of strikes and blasts. The changelings broke off, two for two, and engaged at high speeds. Rarity found herself flanked and pushed back against aggressive strikes, before summoning a diamond platform to sidestep one changeling, blocking the other, and firing off more blasts from her illuminated horn.

The Ghost had not been so lucky, as his changeling aggressors wailed on him with armored strikes. His speed, though, allowed him to catch a limb between his forelegs and swing one changeling into the other, sending it hurdling off the edge of the bookcase. The other swiped and gnashed at the swift and shadowy pony before receiving a hoof to the mandible and collapsing in its back.

“Ghost!” Rarity stretched out a hoof as her cry reached him.

He somersaulted over the now recovering changeling and slammed his rear hoof into his back, the impromptu footing allowing the Ghost to ensnare Rarity’s foreleg in his cloak. She leapt from the bookcases and swung through the narrow passage between before being lifted to the Ghost. As the final two changelings lunged for their prey, the Ghost released the black bolts of cloth and caught them both. With a grunt he swung his enemy around and released them before Rarity’s charged horn as it’s glow engulfed them both in a smoldering ray of light. They stood, panting, as a green glow built beneath them

The black cloak whipped in front of Rarity just in time to deflect a bolt of green power from below. The Ghost peered over the fabric to see the marked changeling, horn glowing, holding something in her hoof. Rarity looked as well and gasped.

“Is that…”

“I think it is,” the Ghost whispered. He pulled Rarity to him and glided down from the towering cabinet.

As the two landed, their eyes locked onto a vortex of starry magic in the changeling’s hoof. Its power seemed to reach out to them and chill their very bones with its influence. Finally, the changeling spoke.

“Forgive me. I’m out of practice,” she said in a feminine chitter.

“Forgiven,” the Ghost replied. “We might’ve remained fooled had it not been for your slip.”

“A regrettable outcome, but at least now I can deal with you personally.” The changeling took a lowered stance, green magic swirling along her twisted horn. “Then, all of Canterlot will pay for my brother’s death.”

“Brother?” The Ghost’s eyes fixated upon the shimmering mark spanning the changeling’s face. It glowed and swirled with color, in a way that seemed to tug at his very heart strings. He lowered the cloak and stood to his full height. “Alate?”

“How do you know that name?!” She hissed. “None outside the hive know of us, our mission was secret. Not even your night princess knew of us until it was too late.”

“Because I knew your brother, Darrox told me about you before he died.”

“Do not speak his name!” Her words announced the release of the swirling power, arcing across the ground and lurching up toward the duo. Rarity’s summoned shield reduced the spell to emerald embers before she turned to the Ghost.

“I’m not sure she’s listening, darling,” she quivered.

“Alate, Darrox saved my life. He pulled me from the ocean his murderer dumped me in.”

“And as thanks you wear the mantle, his mantle, as if you were the very legend he built himself!”

“I wear it because he gave it to me. He trained me to be the Ghost, I didn’t steal it!”

“No!” A verdant shock wave burst forth, jostling the precarious relics and knocking her foes to the ground.

“Darrox wanted nothing more than to help ponies. To save them! We never knew why, he just went on and on about the ‘beauty’ he found in your kind.” Her last words dripped with venom as she stomped forward. “But it was your kind that used him. Idolized him like one of your cheap celebrities, forgot about him when he disappeared, and what does your kind do when he returns? You kill him!”

“I would have gladly traded places with him. I begged to! Darrox was my mentor, almost like my own father.” The Ghost stood, standing between Rarity and the fuming changeling. “He gave his life defending innocent ponies from the twisted plots of a maniac. Darrox died a hero, and I wear this to honor him.”

“Why would you care? Why would anyone of your kind care about a changeling?!”

“Because Darrox taught me there are no ‘kinds’, Alate, only the actions of an individual.” His voice calmed, urging the magical tempest pouring from Alate’s horn to wither. “Darrox was a champion of reason and fairness. He could’ve left me in the ocean to drown, or on the beach to die. He could’ve never come back at all, but he did. Darrox gave everyone he met a chance, and he taught me to do the same.”

The firestorm in Alate’s heart ceased. All around them, the putrid green glow of her magic dimmed into nothingness as she dipped her head toward the floor. Rarity stood and approached the scene, placing a cautious hoof on the Ghost’s shoulder.

“You really did know him, didn’t you?” Alate’s words were soft. “Even at the end?”

“I did,” the Ghost replied, kneeling. “He was the greatest person I will ever know. I wish you had the chance to see him again.”

“So do I,” Alate nearly whispered, the heart in her hoof swirling faster. “I spent years searching for him, only to find a pile of ash. This city took him from me when he returned, like it did the Labrum and Tarsi when the queen attacked. This city is a blight upon my family, and student or not you will all pay for our pain!”

In an instant Alate thrust the heart forward. The spectral substance bloomed like a flower, reaching it’s wispy tendrils out in a vortex of chilling power. Rarity erected a shield but stood beholden to the swirling infinity before her. Her power waned, and the Ghost desperately wrapped them both in his cloak as the heart’s reach grew to encompass their vision. Its magic pulsed, soft and deliberate, as the two were lulled into a cold, trembling sleep.

--

Rarity’s head snapped up just in time to dodge the carriage rocketing across her path. A gasp escaped her lips, robbing her of the power to shout obscenities at the carelessness of her would-be attacker. Instead, she elected to hurl daggers from her eyes at the dwindling sight of the carriage before continuing on her way with a dainty huff, down the street and toward a familiar storefront.

All around her, though, she found the eyes of passersby following her, speaking in hushed and excited tones. She quickened her pace as a crowd began to form. More and more ponies made their way from store fronts and carriages toward her, their muttering swelling to a dull roar.

“Miss Rarity, is it really you?” One pony called out.

“My stars. Everypony, look, it’s Rarity!” Another cried, attracting more to the massive crowd.

“We love you, Rarity!”

“You’re the pinnacle of style!”

“Y-Yes, thank you,” Rarity stammered, pressing her flank against a nearby shop window. A tapping sound grew behind her, and when Rarity turned to meet it she found even more ponies pressed to the glass, eyes of adoration glued to her every step.

“Please, you’re all very kind, but-”

“I want your autograph!”

“No, me! I want your autograph!”

The rabid wave of admirers closed in around her. Her heart pounded, sweat dripping from her brow as the onslaught of obsession consumed her dwindling space. Trembling hooves tapped and turned along the sidewalk, desperate for an exit, but none could be found. Pegasi descended from above, trapping her in a suffocating dome.

“P-Please, I don’t-”

Familiar shapes emerged from the crowd, as starstruck as the other ponies, and covered the remaining ground between them and Rarity.

“Oh my,” the yellow one hummed. “Your designs are so lovely. Are they just for ponies?”

“Oh! Oh! What about party ponies?”

“Back off,” one pegasus, sporting a rainbow mane, shouted. “M-Miss Rarity, you don’t know me, but I… aaaaahhhh! This is so embarrassing, I just love you so much!”

“No, no please, Rainbow,” Rarity pleaded. “You know me. We’re friends.”

“Oh my gosh. Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! Did you hear that? I’m friends with Rarity!”

The mob shifted from excitable to wrathful in an instant. Each pony began climbing over each other, beating back the others in an all out brawl for Rarity’s affection. In the middle of the chaos she crumpled into a ball. Tears dripped onto the sidewalk below as the piercing sting of fear dug into her.

“Silver,” she whimpered. “Silver, where are you?”

Wetness touched the underside of her chin, but Rarity found no tears when she moved to wipe them away. Instead, she spied liquid seeping through the cracks of the sidewalk, the droplets falling upward. Bringing her face downward she heard, among the shouting dome around her, a faint gurgling from beyond the stone.

She steeled herself and reared up. Her pristine hooves struck the sidewalk with a loud thud, the cracks spreading under her might. Again and again she struck, every blow drawing more and more water from the sidewalk as it pooled around her hooves. With a wild scream she threw herself into her final blow and shattered the stone open. Water, salty and frigid, consumed her and the vicious crowd as the horrid nightmare washed away, leaving her in a void.

Rarity strained her eyes against the freezing embrace of the water. From beyond, a lone beam of gentle light pierced the abyss around her, and within she could spy a shape. Rarity swam toward it, flailing her limbs with as much strength as she could muster. Each stroke brought a burning sensation to her chest but carried her closer to the drifting form of Silver. There he was suspended, his eyes fixated on the light while a sinister black tendril coiled around his legs. He pumped his forelegs and floated up while the mass below pulled him deeper into the void below.

He screamed. No noise came from the earth pony, none that Rarity could hear, but she saw the dancing lights take shape. They shifted into figures she recognized, ponies from their adventure together. She could make out Darrox, Abundant Glow, Honey Hearts, Shining Armor, and herself. At each image Silver writhed, desperately clawing at the water to carry him higher. Once again the tendrils resisted, and he was pulled deeper towards their source.

Rarity could take no more of the torturous display. She swam toward the suspended pony and reached out for him, dodging errant tendrils that lashed at her from the depths, before placing her hooves on either side of his face. Slowly, his gaze drifted to her and the soft smile she wore. The terror in his face was washed away in her presence and his once-flailing hooves slowly drew themselves around her form. The mass of darkness was unable to stop their embrace and retreated from the sight. The light above grew brighter, drawing the duo up from the cold water and to the surface.

--

Rarity gasped sharply and writhed in her place on the floor, coughing violently to expel the imagined sea water from her burning lungs. When her fit was over she wearily rose on her front hooves to face the Ghost. She crawled overtop his motionless form.

“Silver,” she coughed out. “Silver, darling, wake up. Please, wake up!”

She shook and struck the Ghost’s body to no avail. Rarity desperately began a round of compressions to his chest, sharing her air with him in a frantic attempt to save her friend.

“Wake up,” she pleaded, granting another kiss of life to the stallion. “Please, darling! Don’t make me do this alone, I need you.”

Her cry brought the Ghost sputtering back to life. His forceful cough echoed throughout the reliquary as his legs struggled against gravity to stand. Rarity’s tears burst from her eyes and sobbed into his shoulder, planting kisses wherever she could to remind herself he was alive. Their weary forms fell into each other.

“Ra… Rarity,” he muttered, shivering at the memory of the chilled ocean. “Are y-you okay? If you’re h-h-hurt…”

Rarity cradled his head, giving him the only answer he needed. Together, they supported each other before standing from the floor. The Ghost scanned the room and was met with the staggered expression cast across Alate’s face.

“You two… i-it was just a second, it shouldn’t have done... but he…” The heart rolled from her hoof and across the room as she collapsed to the floor. “I didn’t think he would die.”

“Alate,” the Ghost wheezed, leaning on Rarity. “Please understand what you’re doing. This thing is evil. Darrox, out of everyone, wouldn’t want ponies killed in his name, not by his own sister.”

“B-But he... he was murdered. I have to avenge him. Don’t you understand, I’m the one who let him go!”

“We know, but you aren’t the only one his death affected,” Rarity said with soft words. “Your brother was a true gentlecolt, and possessed a kind soul. My only regret is having never known him as well as I wanted to.”

“We cherish him, Alate, and it broke me when he died.” Silver fell to his knees, taking the changeling’s hooves in his own. “But when I was in your place, angry and hurt, your brother showed me how to rise above the cycle of violence and be something better. To be... almost as good as he was.”

Thin streams of tears fell from Alate’s eyes. The iridescent mark across her face spread, only slightly, up towards her horn and shone with a dull glimmer.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered, almost choking on her words. “I’m spitting in his face with everything I do and... he would be so disgusted with me.”

“Then, darling, let’s work to be better.”

Rarity extended her hoof to Alate. Together, the Ghost and Rarity pulled her from the floor and helped straighten her out. Alate blinked, willing the tears to cease, and looked to the duo with a sheepish expression.

“What happens now?”

The Ghost scanned the damage the reliquary had suffered. Cabinets were cracked or burned, defeated changelings littered the floor, and the heart still pulsed in it’s spot not far from them. It was a chore to look away, but the Ghost turned his sights to Alate and gave her a small smile.

“We’ll talk about that later.”