“Look, Rarity, but don’t touch!”
She said it to me every day. Every day, when we went shopping. Every day, when we walked past store windows that held sweets, clothes, sculptures, and hundreds of other bright, shiny goods that caught a young mare’s eye. Every day, I was forced to merely look.
Never to touch. Never to own. Just to look.
It all began when I broke a porcelain duck at age five. Goodness, my mother got so worked up over the tiniest things. Yes, yes, it was valuable—irreplaceable, even. It was an antique that belong to my great grandmother that I was explicitly forbidden to touch.
“But what an absurd punishment!” you might say. “Being forced to window shop with your mother?”
Absurd? Hardly. It wasn’t even torture. It was beyond torture. I am an artist, the single best dressmaker that Equestria has seen in years,and anypony who disagrees—
Ahem. Well, I need touch. I need to feel. Anything less is nothing short of Hell. Which iswhy those days of window shopping cut so deep...
And it’s why I’m here now.
A tiny chuckle escapes my lips and echoes through the endless white mist. The chuckle becomes a cough, then a droplet of water falls from my face to the endless, white abyss below.
More drops follow. I could try to ebb the flow of tears. But why should I? Why should it matter? It always stops. Everything always ends. Eventually.
I smear a hoof across my eyes, sending a cascade of the remaining droplets down into the mist below. My lips tremble, and I sit back on my hindquarters. “S-Show me S-Sweet Apples Acres,” I whisper to the mist.
The mist answers by engulfing me, swirling around and around like an ethereal typhoon. I shield my ears from the endless, roaring sound, and even though I clench my eyes shut, I can feel the winds inching closer. Five feet. Three feet. One foot.
My stomach lurches. An invisible force throws me upward. I’m lifted higher, and higher, and higher...
Then, everything stops.
Birds chirp, and water gurgles. Without opening my eyes, I smile. I let my eyes open, and they tell me what my heart already knows. The grass below me is green and lush as I’ve ever seen. Glancing up from the perfect lush ground, I see a gust of wind carry stray leaves all the way to the mountains off in the distance. My focus shifts to the deep brown trunk and vibrant crimson of a nearby apple tree. And another. And another. Trees, as far as I can see, propagate in every direction. The branches practically crack under the weight of the apples growing on them. At the base of each tree’s trunk, daffodils have broken through the soil, giving them a golden bed to rest on.
The valley is beautiful this time of year. I can’t help but sigh. It’s so picturesque, so pristine, and I can’t remember the last time I felt—
But I can’t.
I feel nothing. My hooves rest on the grass, but I can’t feel its blades. The wind whips past, but I can’t feel the breeze. The sun glows bright above me, but I can’t feel its warmth.
“C’mon, Fluttershy! We don’t have a lot of time!”
My heart practically bursts through my chest as I hear her voice. Before my eyes, a perfect blonde mane crests over a hilltop, a halo flowing from the head of its angelic owner. She pulls bouncing cart full of apples, apples of every color, and they glisten in the noon sun.
Applejack bucks a tree, a motion that is as graceful as it is strong. I smile as she collects the fruits from one tree, then another, and another. All the while, she comes closer and closer...
“Phew, I’ve never seen a harvest so big!” she calls to her right as she stares up at yet another
tree. She’s only a body’s length away from me; so close that I could reach out and touch her, if I were worthy of it.
Don’t speak, I urge myself. Don’t move. You can’t…
My line of thought retreats as I see a soft, pink mane fluttering to catch up to Applejack. Floating just a few inches off the ground, she stops when she reaches the apple cart. Then, she glances up at the tree.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to fit anymore in this one,” Applejack laments, jerking her head back at the already overflowing cart. “I’ll need yer help to get another one out of the barn.”
“Right.” Fluttershy nods.
Then they turn to leave. A single, choked sob escapes me.
Applejack stops. Dead in her tracks, she unhooks the yolk of her cart and spins around. I can’t even breathe as she stare at me. We’re only ten feet away when she locks onto my gaze. She can’t… she can’t see me.
Can she?
My heart hopes painfully against my ribcage as she takes one step towards me, then another.
“Is... is something the matter, Applejack?” Fluttershy turns to face me as well.
Applejack only stays a moment longer before shaking her head. “Nothing. I just thought…” She shrugs and turns back to the cart. “You ever feel like something’s missing?”
YES! I scream. But it’s only in my head. I’m missing! Don’t leave, I’m here!
The pair of them begin walking away. I take a single step forward, and with tear-stained eyes, I cry out, “Applejack!”
In a flash, it all vanishes. Sweet Apple Acres disappears. Everything is mist once more. I never felt the grass. I never felt the sunshine. I never felt the wind. And that’s how it is. Never to be seen. Never to be heard. Never to touch. Forever.
I stomp a hoof in frustration. Don’t move, Rarity, I berate myself. You’re not allowed to move.
With a deep breath, I look up into the mist. Once again, I command the mist in a confident tone, “Show me the library.” Once again, it lifts me, swirling closer and closer, carrying me higher and higher until…
Rays of golden sunlight flow through the windows of the circular room. Rows upon rows of leather-bound tomes are bathed in late-afternoon light. At the oaken table in the center of library stands a unicorn mare. She pores over a book, so involved that her nose practically touches the pages.
I smile knowingly as she shakes her head in frustration.
“There’s nothing in this one, either!” She groans and magically tosses the book aside before slumping over the table. “I’m never going to get it sorted out at this rate!”
A frustrated sigh rolls down from the upper level of the library. Before I can blink, a pair of wings bolts by. Rainbow Dash appears at Twilight’s side, holding yet another book between her teeth. “Here, try this one, Twi!”
“Thanks, Rainbow,” Twilight says. “A surprise report on death in Equestria. Celestia sure knows how to pick topics…”
As she shoos Rainbow Dash away with a wave of her hoof, I roll my eyes in sympathy. However, Rainbow Dash retreats to Twilight’s bed on the upper level.
Horn aglow, Twilight flips through the pages at top speed. When she reaches the center of the book, her eyes widen, and she whispers, “Oh my…”
“What’s up?” Rainbow calls down.
“I forgot all about this section, but somepony folded down the corner of this page...” Twilight frowns as she flips a few pages forward. “Necromancy,” she whispers.
Another voice explodes from the kitchen. “Necromancy? What’s that?” Somehow, even faster than Rainbow Dash, a pink blur zips past me to Twiight’s side.
“Bringing something back to life,” Twilight mutters, her attention focused piercingly at the book. “It’s… unheard of in Equestria, in the last few centuries. No wonder I forgot it.”
Rainbow’s bored scoff echoes from above. “What’s so bad about bringing somepony back to life?” She follows her question down the stairs, this time walking instead of flying.
“It’s not natural.” Twilight turns to face her. “When something dies, that’s the natural order of things. It’s meant to stay like that, and that’s why the repercussions are so severe.” She gestures to the book. “Ancient magical laws forbid the use of necromancy. At one point, it got to be such a problem that the ruler crafted laws to prevent it from being used. This is before Celestia’s time,” Twilight says, marveling at the writing.
“What happens if you do it?” Pinkie asked with an uncharacteristic frown.
“The offending unicorn disappears from existence,” Twilight whispers with a shiver. “Everything they ever did, said, or accomplished is wiped from Equestria, as if they had never been there at all. Nopony even knows they’re gone…”
I gulp, shaking my head with a knowing little smile.
“And this is the one part I don’t understand,” Twilight said, indicating a particular paragraph to her over-the-shoulder readers. “Their fear becomes their world. Behind The Veil.”
I laugh internally, despite myself. So smart and curious, yet so completely ignorant of the truth...
“The Veil,” she repeats, flipping to another section. “‘The Veil is a concept in ancient Equestrian magic . A location in which ponies are punished through means of...’ This is horrible!” Twilight slams the book closed in disgust. “I hope I never checked this out to anypony.”
She glances at a blank piece of paper at the front. “Strange...” Her eyes narrow, and her horn glows as she examines the page. “Part of this page is... more blank... than the rest of it.”
“What do you mean more blank?” Rainbow’s voice cracks as she tilts her head.
Twilight responds in a short lecture. “Especially in a book this old, residual magic throughout the ages tends to accumulate on the pages—sort of like how pages turn yellow, except it’s based on the echoes of levitation spells that unicorns use instead of the paper’s lignin reacting with the nearby atmosphere—”
“Uh, Twilight?” Rainbow interrupts. “In English?”
A dead silence falls over the room. Frowning, Twilight reopens the book to the folded page, piercing it with her gaze. She drags her hoof across the page. “Something’s been erased from this page. Wiped from existence...” Twilight shudders, and her friends join her.
“I think we’ve been cramped up in this musty old library for too long!” Pinkie exclaims.
“Y-yeah,” Rainbow agrees with a sideways glance.
“Wiped from existence.” Twilight remains focused on the book, on the blank page. She whispers, “And we’d never even know.”
“Twilight!” I manage through the lump in my throat. “Please! I’m here! I’m not gone!”
And the scene vanishes. The golden afternoon light is replaced by white, smoky abyss. Rows of books are replaced with wisps of mist. My best friends in the world are...
I scream at the empty world. The sound is tiny and muted in the face of the ever-expanding nothingness.
That’s what my “existence” is. Always to look. Never to touch, to be seen, to be heard. Just like shopping with mother. Except every day. Every single day for who knows how long.
I slide my eyes closed, but it makes no difference. My world is as white and blank and empty as when they are open.
Should I just lie here?
Spare myself more anguish?
Succumb?
No.
I’ll see her again. I need to see her again.
I force myself up to a standing position and command the mist, “Show me her!”
The mist responds, but I clench my teeth and force my eyes open. I can barely hear the whipping of the wind anymore. I ignore the lifting and the falling. Only one thing remains on my mind.
When the mist subsides, I hear the chirping of crickets in quiet air. I can almost feel the night air as it caresses my body.
Almost.
I close my eyes to focus, to will it with every fiber of my being. The night is dark, cool, and crisp. I must be able to feel it. I must!
But I feel nothing.
Instead, my eyes creep open, and I see her.
“Sweetie Belle,” I whisper without thinking. I brace myself, ready to be sent back. But around me, the night remains. I sigh in relief at the silence.
Being cautious not to move an inch, I look down at the stone slab on the ground. “Sweetie Belle,” I whisper, smiling at the notes of music carved into the tombstone. “I don’t know how long I have, darling.”
My smile twitches. The twitch becomes a tremble. And the tremble is followed by streams of water.
“I’m sorry!” I choke, pulling on my mane with shaking hooves. “I’m sorry you had to leave so early!” After another choke, I continue, “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you back. I tried so hard...”
I surrender myself to the fit of sobs and lower my head. “But it wasn’t enough.” I raise my head to the sky. “Now you’re up there, and I’m...”
“Gone. Gone forever.”
I clench my eyes shut; biting my lower lip, I will the tears to stop. They don’t. “I wish I had listened to the book... I wish I had obeyed the warnings. I just... I wanted you back so badly!” I scream to the midnight air.
“They remember you,” I tell her. “They’ll always remember you. They’ll always care for you. But I’m... I’m just another Jane Doe.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t,” I say after a long pause. “I’m a broken record, but I can never say it enough. I tried so hard.”
I exhale deeply and stare one last time at the name etched into the headstone. “I can’t stay any longer.” I reach forward, doing my best to touch the grave. To feel it. I clench my eyes shut. “I just hope you know...”
My hoof passes straight through where the the solid rock should be. But as I stumble forward, I open my eyes once more to find...
Mist.
There is no grave.
There is no cool night air.
I have no sister.
I am nothing. I don’t exist.
I never did.
I fall onto my back and face upward, but I might as well have stay standing. Everything looks the same. It always looks the same.
It is my curse. It’s my curse to love another pony like I loved her. To have loved them both more than I love myself. And I paid the price. I’ll pay the price every day for the rest of eternity.
Watching. Hoping. Dreaming that I were there with them. There with my sister. There with that beautiful, blonde-maned wonder. All from behind the Veil. My Veil. It became my world. That fear... that trivial, foalish fear I felt from the first day shopping with my mother.
My Hell.
For eternity.
Always to look, never to touch.
