Chapter 14

I hurry through the snow to get a closer look at the train. It looks even worse up close. The big metal hinge on the back of the train cart looks as though it has been torn apart. The locomotive has been smashed right into the side of the mountain with the one cart behind it still barely hinged on. I wonder what happened to the rest of the train. Along with the deep dents and scrunches in the metal I notice marks have been cut into it. Some are long streaks that look like something has torn right through the metal as if it were paper. The others look like punctures that go all the way through the walls. Every single window has been smashed open, and the roof of the train cart has been completely torn to shreds as pieces are left flared up from where chunks of the metal has been peeled apart. Just what could have been strong enough the cause this much damage? The name ‘Blue Line Trains’ is still completely visible along the blue strip that runs along the train’s body from side to side. This train must’ve come from the station Adarrell was talking about. In the milky air puffs of gray mix with the flakes of falling snow. The clouds of smoke are leaking out from the dented pipes of the locomotive. Then, I start to think; if the engine is still smoking then there’s no way that this train could have been here for a long time despite the long icicles that have formed along every edge and corner of the walls. The crash must’ve just happened. Driven by curiosity I decide to take a quick look inside and check for any signs of life.

The back door into the train cart has already been blown open, and with a heavy creaking sound and scratching of the bottom of the door against the floor I push it against the wall. The cart seems to be resting atop an uneven surface as the floor tilts. I grab hold of the backs of the first row of seats and balance my way through the cart. I see that all the broken glass has collected down into the lower part of the train in which has tilted towards the ground. I notice a big baggy object stuffed away under one of the benches. Bending down to take a look I find that it’s just a plain old bag, but still I reach under and pull it out. It gets a little stuck between the bottom of the bench and the floor, but after one good yank it comes loose. I stagger back almost losing my footing, but I catch myself by grabbing onto the arm of the bench. I unzip the long vertical zipper along the bag and pull apart the opening. Inside are nothing but long plastic sticks and some kind of tarp; I soon realize that it’s the parts to a tent like the ones back at the campsite. They must’ve made it! But . . . where are they?

“Hello?!” I shout, but with no response.

I drop the tent bag and hurry down the rest of the aisle in the train cart nearly stumbling over myself. The rest of the isle is empty, and thus I come to the door that leads into the main engine room. The door appears to have been violently smashed from the outside. With the hopes that someone might be behind this door I waste no time before twisting the handle, but the door won’t come loose. I decide that since it’s already damaged I could easily knock it down, so with one good kick the door flies open sending small pieces of metal flying and clacking against the metal floor. Inside is a bit cramped with all the levers and switches, and it appears that through the small little windows on either wall of the cart have overflowed with snow as it pours down from them to the ground. The big mass of machinery appears to be crushed and collapsed due to the crash. Nestled between what looks like a main lever sticking up from the floor and some other mechanics is the body of a pony with a lavender coat. I rush to her side nearly slipping on the several scattered pieces of coal over the floor and lift her up from the shadows.

“Twilight! Twilight can you hear me?” I ask hysterically, but her body remains still.

Her head hangs from her neck as her mane droops over her eyes. I lift her head up and notice that from her mouth small pathetic wisps of breath leave her lips. ‘She’s still breathing; she’s still breathing’ I repeat to myself to calm my heart.

“Twilight wake up! Twilight!” I say while shaking her body. “Twilight!”

Twilight’s eyes flare open as she takes several deep breathes of the cold air to calm herself. She feels she had just awoken from a horrible nightmare, and as she looks down at her hooves she notices they are trembling and can’t get them to stop. She looks around at the engine room and finds nothing. The room is empty, and the coal she and Wick Flame put into the engine is still burning strong. She glances up at the nearest window and notices that it’s turned to dark outside as she then begins to ponder how long she’s been asleep. She listens, and hears the train’s wheels still turning and trailing over the metal railroad. But yet, something doesn’t feel quite right. She doesn’t really remember falling asleep on the train after they left no matter how hard to tries. She feels she should go out and check to see if Wick Flame and the others are okay, perhaps they had gotten to sleep as well. Twilight gets up, but a sudden scuffling in the next train cart frightens her stiff.

“. . . Wick? Bolts?” She calls thinking it must’ve been one of them.

“Sorry Miss Sparkle! Did we wake you?” Asks one of the sisters from the next cart as her muffled voice can be heard from behind the closed door.

Relieved to hear her voice she responds newly calm.

“Oh no I just . . . I had a bad dream is all.”

“Oh, okay. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Twilight walks over to the window and peers outside. It’s very dark, but she can see that their still traveling the tracks on the way towards the castle. She can’t help but study the skies for any movement as she dreads the sight of one of those winged creatures from before, but thankfully the skies seem empty. She gazes at the mountain up ahead with Canterlot poking out from its side. Just staring at the castle gives her the feeling that she’s already standing before its front gates. She remembers the days where she would look up at the castle and feel peace, safety; but now she looks on with fear and unease.

“Hey! How is your sister doing? Is she alright?” Twilight asks with her eyes still glued to the castle as an attempt to relieve some of the anxiety.

“. . . She’s scared.” Says the sister.

“I understand, I’m a bit scared too. But we can’t let that stop us. . . Hey uh do you know where Wick Flame and Nuts-n-Bolts are?”

“. . . They’re scared too. . . We’re all scared Miss Sparkle.”

Twilight turns away from the window towards the door distraught by the sister’s words. Something about the way she’s speaking just doesn’t seem right.

“Well, are you all okay?” Twilight asks.

“. . . Can you come outside Miss Sparkle? Please?” Asks the sister.

“. . . Okay, I’ll be right out.”

“We’re scared Miss Sparkle. Very, very scared.”

Twilight rests her hoof on the door handle, but before twisting it she puts her ear close to the door. She can’t hear anything besides the train’s engine, so she tries to peek through the little window near the top of the door. Most of the room is covered by shadows, but she can see the silhouettes of the two sisters sitting in one of the benches. The sister nearest to the aisle gives Twilight a little wave with her hoof. Twilight hides under the window despite knowing she saw her. Her hoof won’t twist the handle, her mind is conflicting with her on whether to open the door or not. Something just feels wrong, something about them just feels wrong.

“. . . Twilight please come out. We need you. . . Please?”

“O-Okay, I’m coming out. . .”

Twilight twists the handle of the door with such caution and fear that she carefully pulls open the door as the metal screeches beneath its hinges. She scans the aisle but the two sisters are missing from their seat. Her hoof traverses through the boundary of shadows and out of the safety of the light. She carefully and quietly walks down the aisle checking every seat for the two sisters, but after about six seats nearby where she last saw them they all appear empty. Just then a gentle knocking on the door ahead causes her to jolt her head and glue her eyes to the door.

“Miss Sparkle? Miss Sparkle are you out there?” Asks the sister’s voice from the other side.

“Yes I’m-I’m here.”

“Come with us Miss Sparkle, we need you.”

“W-Well just stay where you are and I can . . . I can help.” She says with a dry throat.

“Okay.”

Twilight then pushes herself to walk towards the door as she feels her hooves are nailed to the floor not wanting to leave their ground. She can feel the air getting colder every step she takes to the door as she can now see her own breath clouding in the air. Hoping that the painful trip to the door can be delayed as long as possible so that she may gather herself together she instead finds herself already at the door’s handle. She twists the handle and this time instead of delaying the inevitable any longer she pulls the door open as fast as she can. She can see the dark silhouettes of the two sisters all the way down at the end of the aisle, and slightly relieved, she calls out to them.

“Okay, I’m here. W-What’s the matter?” She asks.

“Come closer Twilight, please.” The sister asks innocently.

Twilight reluctantly takes a step forward, then step after agonizing step she decides to stop about a meter away from the sisters who say nothing upon her arrival. They stand almost lifelessly facing toward Twilight. Their faces are too darkened to see their eyes or just about anything else about their faces. Still without any words she decides to blurt out a question to break the uncomfortable silence.

“W-What are you two doing all the way back here? It’s f-freezing.” Twilight says shivering.

“We’re scared Miss Sparkle.” Says the other sister.

“Okay b-but why? What are you scared of? Why did you bring me all the way out here?” Twilight says wanting answers.

“We need you Miss Sparkle.”

“Okay I’ve had just about enough of this. W-Why are you two acting like this? Just tell me what’s going on!” Twilight says running out of patience.

The door all the way at the end of the aisle behind her slams shut, and with a gasp of chilling air she glances back at the door and then back at the sisters.

“We’re scared Miss Sparkle. We’re very scared.” Says the two sisters in unison.

Twilight can feel the temperature in the air begin to drastically fall. She can hear the sounds of crackling ice as the windows nearby cover in a sheet of frost, and the same thing happens to the floor along with the seats. The frost crawls from the two sisters towards Twilight covering every inch of the train cart. From the frost’s surface little crystals of ice grow as Twilight begins to take careful steps backwards, and the frost continues to spread. Twilight’s eyes begin to fill with a strange teal glow emanating from the ice as it becomes more intense the more it spreads.

“We’re scared Miss Sparkle. We’re scared Miss Sparkle. We’re scared Miss Sparkle.” The two sisters continue to repeat.

With their voices, the teal glow of the ice filling the train cart and the frost drawing nearer to her hooves she whips around and gallops toward the door. Despite how far she is from the two sisters their voices still sound as if they were right next to her ears. Charging at full speed and not wanting to waste time by twisting the door’s handle she instead busts right through the door with the side of her body. Up ahead the door to the engine room seems to have been somehow shut as well, so she continues to gallop with the sisters’ voices still ringing in her ears. She bursts through the door with ease, however, as she soon as she starts to feel safe she finds that she is not in the engine room; but instead another empty train cart. She can’t remember going through another part of the train, but she shakes away the thought and just continues to trot down the aisle. With her side beginning to ache she bursts through the next door, and to her surprise it takes her to another empty section of the train. In a panic she doesn’t spend any time to think about it and just pushes herself to pursue the next door. And so door after door it seems to be an endless string of empty carts, and with Twilight’s side bruising and her legs tiring she is unsure of how long she can continue. She can feel the cold catching up to her as the sounds of crackling ice are just barely underneath her.

She can feel her body ready to give out, but after painfully busting through the next door her eyes are met with the beautiful sight of light reaching out to her through the open door at the end of the aisle. Like the light of a glistening princess lending her hoof out to her for safety. Twilight pushes herself to burn her last few gusts of energy racing to the door with the ice following closely behind. She enters the engine room and slams the door shut behind her as she presses up against it with her back as she breathes heavily with sore legs. As she braces the door she is confused to find a strange silence suddenly fall upon the train. The voices have stopped and she is unsure of whether or not the ice is still trying to consume the train. With only the sounds of the crackling coal fire and the humming of the train’s engine she relaxes her tense muscles. But the moment of peace is short lived as a sudden pounding on the door causes her heart to leap into her throat.

“Twilight! Miss Sparkle please open the door!”

“W-Wick Flame?!” Twilight asks in astonishment. “Is that you?!”

“Yes it’s me! Nuts-n-Bolts is with me too. Now Miss Sparkle could you please open the door?!”

“Yes-something’s gone off with those two sisters aboard the train!” Says Nuts-n-Bolts in a panic.

“Okay just hold on! Let me just—”

Twilight pauses driven into thought. She feels suspicious about them, and so she peers through the little window to see if she can clearly see them. She finds their silhouettes standing before the door waiting for her to open up. She sees the two figures glance at each other which appears much more natural than the two sisters’ stiffness, but, something still doesn’t feel right. The whole train cart is clean of ice, and the door Twilight had busted open is somehow shut closed.

“Uh Miss Twilight are you going to let us in?” Asks Wick Flame.

“Yes please, won’t you?” Asks Nuts-n-Bolts.

“I . . . I don’t. . .” Twilight trails off as she slowly backs away from the door.

“Please Miss Sparkle, we need you.” Says Wick Flame.

“We’re scared.” Says Nuts-n-Bolts.

“Yes, very scared.”

By the pattern of their words Twilight continues to back away from the door. She is sure of herself that the two ponies behind that door are not who they seem to be.

“Open the door Miss Sparkle, please, let us in.”

“Open the door Miss Sparkle.” Says Nuts-n-Bolts.

“No . . . I-I won’t.”

“Please Miss Sparkle, we’re scared.” Says the two sisters’ voices. “We’re all scared.”

Now, all of their voices together repeat the words: We’re scared Miss Sparkle. Over and over as she backs all the way to the engine. With nowhere left to run or hide she stares at the door in horror as the room suddenly becomes gradually colder. As their haunting voices grow louder and faster through the siding of the door frost leaks out from the cracks. Ice covers the little window, and within seconds, the whole door. The ice spreads across the walls and floor as the warmth from the coal fire near Twilight dies down leaving her to nestle herself between the levers that stick out from the floor. She watches as the ice consumes the entire room, and is reaching closer. Suddenly a loud pounding at the door erupts as with every pound the door is heavily dented. Pound after pound the screws along the door’s hinges come loose and fly off shooting across the room. Twilight digs in her mind looking for some sort of solution, but there is no time. All she can do is wait with her screams getting lost beneath their voices.

I’m not too sure how much time has passed, but it has been long enough for the skies to darken. Ever since I first found her nestled in this engine room I haven’t left her side. However I did go back to the bag I found earlier and I used the tent to cover Twilight like a blanket. The covering to the coal chute has been left open, and with the smell of ash I figured I could maybe start a fire to help keep us warm. I searched through my bag for those matches I had, but they were all soaked and bent. There’s no way they would’ve been able to light. I still tried to strike one of them, but it didn’t work. So here I’ve sat with careful eyes on Twilight, and yet I haven’t seen her stir, not even once. I’m not too sure what else I could do. Without fire or any other coverings this is all we have. I shut the door so that not all the cold winds could rush in all at once, but the broken windows allow it entry. Every now and then I get up and check to make sure that Twilight is still breathing and her heart beating, but they stay that slow and steady pace.

I will stay here and wait until she awakens. I know she will, she survived the cold once, so she can surely make it this time. With my bag resting against the tilted wall, so that I could lay down and rest on the cold hard floor, I begin to wonder what was going to happen next in the storybook. I reach over and lazily drag the bag over to me. Undoing the ropes I pull out the frost covered book and hold its chilling cover in my hands. I pry it open as the water has frozen the pages together, but not too tightly. With the sounds of pages crinkling as I search through the book I come to the next chapter, “Chapter Three: Masquerade.”

Meriva is walking by Dawston’s side as they both are walking across the bricked road with the shimmering lake nearby. The air has gotten colder and the wind slightly stronger as winter is beginning to settle among the town. They’ve noticed these sings put up all around town about some event later that evening. The sings all read: “Local Town Party Tonight! Everypony is invited to join for dancing and food! This year’s theme is Masquerade, so go out and find a stunning mask that speaks to you! The party will be held at Thevan Manner and hosted by Mr. and Mrs. Thevan from 6:00 to 11:00 P.M. We hope to see you all soon!” Dawston particularly takes an interest in the event, however it doesn’t seem Meriva even knows the signs exist. Dawston invited her here to walk with him, but, she hadn’t seemed quite as excited as he expected her to be. In fact, she hasn’t really said a word to him since they left her home. With such a beautiful day in their hooves, yet she won’t even speak a word about it. To him, she appears to be the one wilted flower in a happy field. It’s strange, because yesterday she seemed so vibrant and full of life, perhaps something happened to her later that night.

“. . . Hey, are you okay?” He finally asks.

“Hm? Oh, yes. . . I’m fine.”

“You sure don’t seem like it. Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh no, no, no of course not! It’s just. . . I’m not too sure.”

“About what?”

“About the trip to the mountain.”

“Oh come on, I promised you that it’s safe—”

“I know that-but . . . what if something goes wrong?”

“Nothing will go wrong, don’t worry. Why all of a sudden you seem so worried? You weren’t like that when I introduced the idea.”

“It’s just I-I feel a little . . . nervous.”

Dawston realizes that by nervous, she means scared. He needs a way to take her mind off of it for a while then maybe she’ll feel more relaxed. He ponders to himself as they continue to walk, and an idea hits him.

“Hey, you know that party that’s being held later?” He asks.

“Party? Oh right, they have those every year. I’ve never been to one because . . . well, I guess I just didn’t want to.”

“Well how about you and I go tonight?”

“R-Really?”

“Of course! It sounds like fun.”

And just like that Meriva’s worry about the trip had almost disappeared instantly. Joyfully as Dawston wrapped his front leg around her she leaned against his side with a newly brightened smile upon her face. Together they strolled through the park and made a trip to the local clothing store where they had all sorts of dresses and garments. Because of the upcoming party the section of masks was full of ponies digging through them to find the perfect one that suited them. Dawston and Meriva joined the chaos picking and searching through the wall of masks trying on several before finally settling on one. Meriva’s mask is sparkly white and in the shape of a butterfly to go with her white dress, as for Dawston, his is slick and shiny while resembling a black raven as its beak goes past his snout. As he put on his mask he got Meriva’s attention and began jokingly pecking at the ground with his legs positioned like a bird’s wings. Meriva, despite how ridiculous he looks, can’t help but let out a joyful laugh.

After they left the market with their new masks they still had plenty of time to spare before the party begins. Dawston decided to ask Meriva if she fancied going out to lunch while they wait, and she agreed. They passed by Giano’s shop, and so Dawston thought it would be a good idea to stop by there for some lunch.

“Say why don’t we go and eat there? You could see your friend too! Come on let’s—”

“Wait!” Meriva calls grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. “Let’s . . . let’s find a different place to eat.”

“But why? Don’t you want to go see your friend?”

“Can we just find somewhere else, please?” She asks in a fret.

“Woah relax, why don’t you want to see your friend? Did something happen between you two?”

“I just . . . I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, okay. If you really don’t want to then we’ll just go.”

Dawston accepts Meriva’s attitude, but he wishes she would just tell him what the problem was. He figured he shouldn’t press it on too much, otherwise it just might make her feel worse, so they ignore the restaurant in search of another. Just as they pass by Meriva can’t help but glance back at the windows. She feels a heavy sense of guilt and need to walk through that door, but for some reason she just can’t muster up the courage to go. Not after last night. Facing forward she tries to put it out of her mind, but she can feel it lingering in the back of her skull. She hadn’t noticed because of the darkness behind the glass of the windows, but Giano had been staring out the window all by his lonesome.

He watched as she passed by his shop with Dawston. It feels as if a part of his heart had left his chest and run away without recourse. In his hoof he clutches Meriva’s coin she had used to pay for Dawston’s coffee, the one she would have used to toss into the fountain. At this moment, he feels he could use a wish of his own, to have his friend back. He feels the need to run out and catch up to her, but perhaps it be best he remain out of the picture. She seems to be happy with Dawston, and he doesn’t want to come in between that. He grabs hold of the string near the window and closes the blinds so that not even the sun can find its way in. He turns and gloomily walks behind the counter. He grabs a clean dish cloth and carefully wraps Meriva’s coin in it before leaving the dining room and hiding it in an empty drawer upstairs. As he lays it down on the barren wood a tear drops from his eyes and absorbs into the cloth.

Dawston and Meriva settle on another restaurant, one that Meriva had never seen or heard of before. Perhaps it was because the only restaurant she had really been to was Giano’s, and that only makes her think more about him. As they find a table and the waitress takes their orders Dawston notices Meriva’s sudden dejection, and it only makes him want to find out what is haunting her. So, he decides to try one more time after giving it much thought as he fears any backlash. The waitress brings them their meals, and he throws the question at her.

“Meriva, just tell me what happened. I want to help.”

“It’s just. . .” Meriva sighs. “Giano and I, we were such good friends. He was my only friend. He was always there for me when I needed help or just somepony to talk to. Which, was all the time.”

“Sounds like he was a pretty good friend, but then what happened? Why all of a sudden you just don’t want to see him?”

“It’s because last night we got into an argument!” She says with attitude frightening Dawston.

“Okay well, do you want to tell me what it was about?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Meriva, talking about it will make you feel better.”

“. . . Okay, it was about the trip.”

“What about it?”

“Well I told him about it and instead of being happy for me he kept trying to convince me not to go. He kept saying it was too dangerous and something could happen-and so I . . . I got a little upset. But, then I started thinking, and I thought that maybe . . . maybe it could be.” She says as Dawston sighs.

“Meriva, I didn’t mean for you to break away from your friend—”

“It’s fine-just-it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She says in a fret.

“. . . Well, I want you to know, that if you really don’t feel like going then we don’t have to. Okay? I don’t want you to do something you don’t feel comfortable with.”

And with that Meriva and Dawston remained silent for the rest of their meal together. Meriva wasn’t sure what to say, and Dawston thought that he had it all settled. If she didn’t want to go then she doesn’t have to, he just thought it would have been a nice quiet time together separated from everypony else and society itself. He had a perfect plan. They would climb up the mountain with the wonderful glistening white surrounding them. He knows a spot where if you look out you can see a sight your eyes would thank you for. One cannot describe it, one can only see it to experience it. A sight unlike any other.

They waited until it was time. The stars had begun to spread themselves along the black blanket of the sky. The Moon gleamed so brightly one’s eyes could remain attached to it for as long as they wished. The Thevan Manner’s windows lit up with golden light as ponies from all within town gathered at the doors eagerly awaiting for the turn of the knobs. An older stallion with a grey coat and white mane wearing a black suit and velvet rose in its pocket opened the doors. Everypony in their dapper dresses, suits and decorative masks happily trotted inside where there were tables covered by white cloths and topped with glass vases filled with sweet smelling flowers. Excited, Meriva and Dawston follow them inside. In the center of the main room is a wide open space for ponies to get together and dance. To the far left and right of the room are slick wooden staircases leading up to a balcony over watching the whole room. Hanging from the ceiling is an immaculate glass chandelier producing the golden light that coats the refurbished wooden floor below.

“Just a moment everypony, allow me to inform our hosts about you’re arrival.” Says the butler.

He trots up the stairs and disappeared into a room above. Everypony begins to socialize while they wait. Meriva looks up at Dawston excited for the party to start. Minutes go by and still no sign of the Thevans. Everypony quickly is starting to grow curious and impatient.

“What could be taking them so long?” Dawston asks.

“I’m not sure.” Says Meriva.

Just then the butler returns at the top of the balcony.

“Everypony, I apologize for the delay. And now, Mr. Thevan.”

A stallion with a brown coat and a slick black mane combed over and a mustache upon his snout appears atop the balcony. His mask is black and is an undefined shape with wavy protrusions along the sides, and his bow tie and suit are black with a white rose in its pocket.

“Fillies and Gentlecolts, thank you all for coming! It is an honor to be this year’s annual party host, and I want all of you to enjoy yourselves. We hope that this night will be one to remember. We have food setup on both sides of the room, and the music should begin shortly. So let us get started shall we?”

Everypony below begins cheering and stomping their hooves against the wooden floor in excitement. As Mr. Thevan steps away from the balcony and makes his way downstairs he is followed by a mare in a black dress, black pearl necklace, and mask that resembles the shape of a crescent Moon in the color of black. Her vanilla coat is joined by a pink mane as its bangs hang across her forehead and the rest is tied in a tail.

Ponies in suits and ties carrying several different instruments step out and position themselves near their own little black stand with a book of sheet music resting on the stand. Violins, cellos, and even a pianist comes and takes a seat at the grand piano near the rest of the musicians. Within seconds they begin to play, and everypony wastes no time to grab their partner and begin to dance in the center of the room while others move on to the two long tables filled to the edges with food of all kinds, Meriva and Dawston are amongst this group. Soon, everypony is moving about socializing and switching between food tables. Dawston and Meriva grab a little tray and draw from the piles of little cakes and sandwiches as they fill their trays. She takes a bite into a little vanilla cake as soft as sponge, and her senses are met with the delight of its sweetness.

Dawston ends up having to go use the restroom and tells Meriva he will only be a couple minutes. He leaves, and Meriva is left to go ahead and check out the other food table on the opposite side of the room. She squeezes her way through the ponies without cutting through the dancing area. After some time alone she sees that Dawston is now back but on the other side of the ocean of ponies. Both he and she maneuver through careful as to not push somepony by accident. Until Meriva accidentally ends up knocking into a mare who was trying to work her way through the ponies as well.

“Oh! Dear me, I am terribly sorry Miss. I didn’t mean to run into you like that.” Says Meriva pouring with apologies.

She then stares at the mare with new eyes realizing whom it was she had bumped into, the mare that she saw with Mr. Thevan.

“Oh-uh Mrs. Thevan I presume? Please, forgive my rudeness I-I didn’t mean to . . .”

For some reason, Mrs. Thevan seems to be only staring bafflingly at Meriva without saying a word. Meriva ends up trailing off her sentence whilst becoming confused by Mrs. Thevan’s awkward stare. Now, the both of them seem lost in each other’s stares. Before Mrs. Thevan can say a word Dawston comes up from behind Meriva and pulls her away.

“Meriva, come on let’s go.” Says Dawston behind her.

She grabs hold of his hoof, yet still holding her stare with Mrs. Thevan. He guides her away, and Mrs. Thevan leaves lost from view within the crowd of ponies glancing left and right as if she is in search of somepony. Dawston and Meriva stop near all of the dancers with the musicians nearby.

“Was that Mrs. Thevan? What happened?” Dawston asks.

“Well I just accidentally bumped into her and . . . I don’t know it was just a little strange.”

“Why is that?”

“I just . . . never mind.”

“You know, this music is pretty nice. Very classical.”

“Yes, it is nice.”

“Would you. . .” Dawston then takes a bow before Meriva. “Care to dance?” He asks holding his hoof out to her.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She says smiling.

Together they grab hold of each other’s hoof and join the cluster of dancers. They decide to do just what everypony else is doing, so Dawston puts his other hoof on Meriva’s waist and hers upon his shoulder. They follow the music and dance just as everypony else. Meriva and Dawston simply cannot keep their eyes off of each other. Meriva never thought she would see the day. The day that she and the stallion she had only dreamt of would hold each other hoof in hoof dancing to the sweet sound of music. Her mind, clear of any and all thoughts before this night have left for the moment. All she is left with is him, and she couldn’t be happier. Her heart fills to the brim with that special feeling, except now it is amplified so much so that it could soar across the skies. They are lost in each other’s gaze without any intention on turning away, not even for a moment. Looking back at all the moments they have spent together: they’re first meeting, first kiss, and now their first dance; she realizes that her deepest wish has come true, and with that, her cheeks turn rosy and her heart is set aflutter.

The music begins to rise in speed, and so does their hearts. Suddenly everypony halts their dancing and murmurs to each other as they all back away from the center of the room. With everyone crowding together Dawston and Meriva stop to look and notice what is causing all the commotion. Mr. and Mrs. Thevan are in the center of the ballroom dancing with the speed of the music. Their moves are so quick, so elegant. Mr. Thevan does the occasional twirl and back to Mrs. Thevan’s grasp. The both of them appear so in sync, despite everypony’s attention mainly set on Mr. Thevan for his movement. The rhythm of the music continues to pick up as well as their dancing. The music reaches its highest point with the pianist dancing his hooves over the keys, the violinists and cellists gliding their bows over the strings of their instruments with such speed, and then down to a sudden halt as the couple finishes by pressing up against each other and faces close together. Out of breath they look into each other’s eyes, and just when everypony expected them to finish with a kiss, the couple turns their heads in surprise to see everypony watching. Everyone in the room cheers and stomps their hooves against the wood floor with so much joy from the spectacle that was their dance. Dawston and Meriva glance at each other smiling, and out of their own happiness they stomp and cheer for Mr. and Mrs. Thevan with the crowd.

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” Shouts the butler as he trots up to Mr. and Mrs. Thevan. “Dear me, I haven’t seen you two dance like that since . . . well, it’s just wonderful to see you two dance again. Everypony! Let’s hear it one more time for our hosts!”

The whole room again rises in cheering, and Mr. and Mrs. Thevan, clearly nervous, take a bow before their guests and their heartwarming cheers. Soon, after some more dancing and fun, the time came for everypony to depart. Tired and exhausted everypony walks on to their homes for the night. The cool breeze is refreshing to them all from the excitement of the party as they walk home against the wind. Meriva and Dawston, hoof in hoof, walk back to her home. The wind blows fallen leaves across the path as they scrape the dirt. They can hear the trees groaning as the air pushes past them, and crickets chirping beneath the grass. Once they reach Meriva’s cottage Dawston believes it is time to end the night and head on home.

“Well, did you have fun?” He asks.

“It was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

“Good, well I’ll uh . . . I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Dawston wait!” She calls just as he starts to turn away. “I want to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“To the mountain, I really want to go.”

“Y-You sure? I mean like I said if you really—”

“I’m sure. I believe you when you say it’s safe.”

“Okay well . . . great! Uh whenever you’re ready to go we can—”

“How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrorw? Well-I don’t see why not. . . Alright tomorrow. How about we leave at ten in the morning?”

“Sounds great!”

Meriva trots up to Dawston and leaves a kiss on his cheek before stepping in her doorway. She gives him a wave goodbye and he, in a daze, waves back. She closes the door and begins to untighten her dress. She lays her mask on her little round table and heads upstairs to bed. About ready to fall into a dream she throws herself down onto the mattress with her dress still on. She didn’t even bother to wash off the mascara she had put on. She doesn’t quite understand what made her change her mind about the trip, but she’s glad she made it. She feels there is nothing that can make her change her mind, she has it set firm on Dawston’s words. Excited yet tired she snuggles her head into her pillow and closes her eyes, waiting for tomorrow.

After reading that chapter I could almost feel my own heart beginning to flutter as well. Such a nice little story this is turning out to be, I can see why Candle Light’s Mother enjoyed hearing this story when she was young. It’s comforting to feel this whilst being surrounded by the dangerous cold and piling snow. It’s been a little difficult reading this in the dark, so much so that my eyes are beginning to hurt from the strain. The cold as well is starting to get to me. Even with all these clothes it doesn’t make any difference compared to if my skin was bare. I look on at Twilight through the dark, and she still hasn’t budged. I’m beginning to worry, so I stand and step towards her to check for her breath, temperature, and her heart. Her heart is still a bit slow and steady; she’s still lightly breathing, but her ears, cheeks and neck are just so cold. I reach underneath the tent tarp I covered her in, and it seems to be keeping her body warmer than the rest. Hopefully it’s enough until she wakes up.

With her condition settled in my mind I turn away ready to sit myself back down against the metal wall. Just as I begin to squat down I hear something shuffle behind me. I stop, listening for the sound again; but instead I am met with silence. I look back to Twilight, and see that she is still in the same position as when I last looked at her. I pass the sound off as just snow or ice falling from or onto the train’s roof or its walls. I set myself down against the wall with a careful eye set on Twilight. After a few minutes of her still in the same position I turn away towards the book which I left open to the page I left off. I can see the big bold letters of the title for the next chapter. My curiosity drives me to pick up the book and pick back up on the story. I wonder just what might happen next. ‘Chapter Four: The Mountain’.

A knocking at Meriva’s door wakes her from her heavy sleep. Her eyes open to the sun’s rays pouring over her cheeks, but are blocked by thick masses of clouds. She stretches out her legs across her bed while sucking in a deep breath. It’s odd, because she is used to hearing birds chirp and sing every morning she woke up, but now, there are no birds. She understands that winter is on its way, but the birds never leave this early.

“Meriva! It’s Dawston! Are you just about ready to go yet?!” Dawston shouts from below her bedroom window.

In a flash Meriva jumps up and hurries to her window.

“Dawston! I-I’ll be there in a minute!” She shouts.

“Okay! I’ll wait here!”

She realizes she had overslept and that there is really no time to wait around. She grabs a brush from her make-up table and quickly brushes her mane. With her mind buzzing about she realizes that she still has her white dress on from last night. She decides to leave it on and just go as she is. Rushing down the stairs careful not trip on her skirt she meets Dawston outside who is prepared with a big backpack and a poufy jacket. He looks at her in confusion as she tries to act normal with a smile.

“Um, you’re going in that?” Dawston asks.

“Uh-yeah! I just thought I should dress for the occasion!”

“Well it shouldn’t be too bad up there, if you get cold you can just use my jacket. Alright, let’s get going shall we?”

They begin their walk to the tall mountain topped with snow, and Meriva cannot stop glancing up at the darkening sky. They leave town, the first time in a long time Meriva had actually left town for once, and are met with a large field of dry pale grass. Ahead, they can see the bottom of the mountain where they will begin their hike.

“It’s pretty convenient you live near the mountains, and you’ve never decided to come around and just check it out once in a while?” Dawston asks.

“No I . . . I figured I’d rather just stay around town. I guess I just really wasn’t interested, but I’m glad I finally get the chance to try.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it. . . Say, the clouds are getting a little dark. Perhaps a storm is on its way.”

“I hope not.”

“I think we’ll be fine; it might just pass us by.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Says Meriva looking up at the slate colored clouds.

Meriva and Dawston soon begin their hike up the rocky mountainside. Careful as to not trip over any loose stones or roots coming up from the ground by the leafless trees. The higher they go the less trees and grass there are, and the air becomes colder. Meriva sees that the mountain’s walls are becoming covered in thin layers of snow as they ascend. Meriva can’t help but gaze up at the sky once more, and it seems the darkness has spread from down to the town to above the mountains. Something is wrong, she can feel it. The storm clouds don’t appear to be moving away not even the slightest. It’s almost as if they were painted directly onto the sky.

“Meriva? Are you coming?” Asks Dawston.

Meriva realizes that she has stopped walking while being lost in the clouds, so she shakes the thoughts of it out of her head and continues with Dawston.

“Sorry, I was just looking around is all.”

“Meriva, don’t be nervous. Everything’s going to be just fine, I promise.”

Meriva feels something land on her cheek. She gazes up and holds out her hoof, and a little snowflake falls upon it. The soft bundles of snow continue to fall, and Meriva and Dawston press forward. They continue, and the light of day seems to have left them quite quickly. With the clouds blocking all of the sky barely any light at all shines through. Soon, the few bundles of snow turn into many at once. The winds are growing stronger, and their visibility is dropping to nothing. The rocky path ahead is becoming drenched in the snow, and the walls as well are coated over oddly fast. They can barely see or walk through the barrier of wind constantly pushing them back, and it’s only becoming colder by the minute. The wind is so loud they can barely hear each other’s voices.

“How much farther?!” Meriva shouts.

“Not too much farther now!”

“The storm is getting worse! Should we turn back?!”

“Let’s see if we can find somewhere to maybe wait out the storm! Like a cave or something! I brought provisions so we should be okay! If it keeps getting worse then we can turn back!”

They continue up the mountain, and there is no sign of anywhere for them to possibly wait out the storm. Not a single crack or crevasse to be seen, especially with all the snow. Soon they reach a point where the snow has gotten so deep as to dig their whole hoof into. The air cuts right through Meriva’s dress, but she’d rather not complain. Most of the time Dawston hides her behind him to protect her from the winds and barrage of snow. The cold, the air, the numbing of their hooves and cheeks becomes unbearable. Meriva decides to cry out to Dawston, ready to give up.

“Dawston! Let’s turn back!”

“We can’t! We’re almost there! I know there’s a cave nearby somewhere!”

The walls of falling snow are so thick Meriva has lost complete sight of Dawston.

“Dawston! Dawston where are you?!” She cries.

But she receives no answer, just the loud hum of the winds accompany her. Again she tries, this time at the top of her lungs as loud as she can.

“Dawston!”

“I’m here; I’m here! Don’t worry I’m with you! Just hold on to my hoof and don’t let go!”

Dawston pulls her along with him against the rough winds. Meriva can’t even see his face, only his hoof as she grips it as tightly as she can. The onslaught of snow seems never-ending as every inch of space is full of it. The wind is nearly pushing them down to the ground covered by high layers of snow. Meriva can feel her skirt blowing crazily along with her tail behind her, as she shivers violently for warmth. She wants to beg Dawston to turn around and retreat back home where there’s warmth and comfort, but she can barely hear her own thoughts with the wind swirling in her ears. Until suddenly—

A sound throws my eyes off the page and all around the engine room. I see Twilight stirring about under the tent tarp as she begins mumbling. With a burst of sudden energy I lay the book face down still opened to the page I left off on and hurry to Twilight. Her eye brows are straining and her breath is quickening. She curls up her body as she mutters inaudible words or sounds under her breath.

“Twilight? . . . Twilight wake up!” I say while trying to shake her awake.

She continues to stir, but this time more violently. I can see her shivering like mad, but her forehead is dripping with sweat. I can feel my nerves are exploding not knowing what to do. All I can think to do is keep shaking her and calling her name and maybe she’ll wake up.

“Twilight! Twilight can you hear me?!”

“Stay away!” She screams.

She kicks one of her back legs into my chest knocking the air right out of my lungs. I fall down onto the hard metal floor gasping for air, and Twilight throwing off the tarp I covered her in.

“A-Aireal? Is that you? No it can’t be, it can’t be I-I saw you. . .”

“It’s . . . It’s me!” I struggle to say lacking the air.

Drawing in a breath I nearly choke on it as I try to breathe it in as quickly as possible. I try to stand up, and I realize that Twilight is silent while staring at me from against the mass of levers.

“Twilight I. . .” I try to draw in more air. “I was afraid you weren’t going to wake up. I was so scared.”

“S-Scared?”

“Yes! I was so scared that—”

“No, no you’re-you’re not Aireal. You couldn’t be I-I saw you fall!”

“Twilight, please just calm down. It’s me I—”

As I start to walk towards her she begins shouting and staying as close as she can to the engine behind her.

“You stay away from me, stay away.” She orders.

“Twilight, it’s me don’t you see? Look—”

“Stop right there! Don’t you dare come any closer! You’re a liar-you’re not him! I’m not falling for your tricks again!”

“W-What?”

“You don’t think I can see through you huh?! You’re a fake just like the others!”

“Twilight I need you to—”

“Need me?! You need me?! That’s what they said too!”

“Twilight please-it’s me y-you must’ve been having a bad dream. This is really me-I promise!”

Twilight’s face is full of fear as she quivers near the coal chute. She must be in some serious shock from whatever happened during her sleep. By the look in her eyes, it must’ve been something horrifying. I need to calm her down somehow, but her mind seems so unstable I’m afraid to even step closer. With her finally giving her voice a break from all the screaming, but still breathing uncontrollably, I find this might be the right time to act.

“Twilight, please. It’s me, see?” I say while holding out my hand to her. “This is me. It’s not a dream; I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

She says nothing, only cowering and keeping a close eye on me. I take one step closer, and she tenses up. I need to take this one step at a time, I got her to listen, so I must be very careful about what I do and what I say. I feel that just one wrong word spoken or one wrong move could send her permanently on the defensive.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m here. I survived. . . Twilight?”

My words don’t even seem to change her horrified facial expression, not even the slightest. But I must keep trying. I’m digging around in my mind to find something that can maybe snap her out of it; to show her that I’m really me. Although, it’s hard to even convince myself that ‘I’m’ even me. There is only one thing I can think of, and that is to attack her heart with something she holds dearest. The memories of those she held close.

“Remember . . . remember when you told me about your friends?”

At the very mention of the words she jolts her head eyes focused right onto mine.

“You said they were everything to you, and that you wished you could just . . . relive those moments you all had together.”

I can see Twilight’s eyes are beginning to tremble and fill with tears. I’m getting through to her, I can feel her defenses weakening. I just have to keep pushing.

“Seeing your friends frozen in that ice . . . it must’ve been horrible for you to see. I can’t imagine the pain you felt. You told me that it was all your fault, but I know that it wasn’t. And you said you’ve always had a . . . a feeling; a feeling that ‘you’ could do something. It’s ‘because’ you’re here now that you can save them! You’re their only hope left. . .”

Twilight’s eyes can no longer handle the pressure. She collapses to the ground sobbing and weak. I take my first careful step towards her, but she is so overwhelmed by sadness she doesn’t even lift her head up as her tears flood from her eyes and onto the icy metal floor. I get as close as I can and squat down before her. I feel there’s something else I need to say, just one more.

“. . . And no matter what, you’ll go through anything just to be with them again.”

“No matter how impossible it seems.” Twilight joins in.

She lifts her head up and reveals her soaked cheeks and eyes staring into mine. I can see that in her a sort of sudden realization has occurred. She no longer stares at me in fear, but in revelation.

“. . . It really is you, b-but how?”

“I’ll tell you all about it, but first let’s. . .”

I hold my voice and notice that under Twilight’s bangs her coat appears reddish instead of purple. As I reach for her mane she pulls back out of fear.

“Hold still, just for a moment.” I say.

Proceeding to move her mane out of the way I find a big red and blue bruise on her forehead. The sight of it shocks me and sends my adrenaline running.

“You’re hurt! Uh-hold on. Just sit down and keep yourself warm, I’m going to go find something that can help.”

I guide Twilight to set herself down as I cover her back up in the tent tarp

“H-How long have I been out?” She asks.

“Since it was still light out-now just wait right there. I’ll be right back.”

I hurry out of the engine room into the much colder train cart. The snow is and has been pouring from the broken windows and has collected onto the floor. I locate the big bag I found the tent in and dig it out of the snow it has been partially buried in. I rummage through it to find anything of use. Sifting through the bundles of plastic sticks to prop up the tent and find a white bulky bag along with a smaller empty sack at the bottom. I never noticed them because I was in such a rush to get the tent out to warm up Twilight. Lifting the bulky bag out I realize that it’s much heavier than it looks. I open it up and find there are a few sealed metal cans along with assorted silverware and a can opener of sorts. The other smaller empty sack is made of a fabric that doesn’t seem to be as porous as the cloth bags, making it perfect for what I have planned. I set down the bag of cans and take the little one with me outside into the blizzard. Hurrying through the snow to the nearest window I desperately reach up and break off a few of the many icicles that have formed around the roof of the train. I rush back inside shutting the door against the winds, and with the icicles in hand I break them apart setting each broken piece onto the layers of snow piled in the train cart. One by one I drop them into the little sack which fills it up near the top. I tighten it closed and collect the heavy bag of cans and the big tent bag as well for I feel they might be of some use as well.

Reentering the engine room where Twilight is still waiting. Once she sees me with the bags her face fills with anxiety.

“Is that . . . ? Oh no please don’t let that be . . . oh it is-why? Why did this have to happen?!” She says in a fret.

“Twilight just keep calm. . .” I say.

I set down the bag of cans and walk over to Twilight who is covering her eyes with her hooves. Rolling up the big tent bag I lay it down and try to get Twilight’s attention.

“Here, just lay down and rest your head.” I say while guiding her to rest her head down onto the bag I rolled up to act as a pillow.

“Again, again more ponies lost because of me.” She says.

“Don’t say that. . . Are you listening to me?” I ask since her eyes seem to be lost looking at everything else except me.

“They took them all except for me, why? Why didn’t they . . . ?” Twilight then gasps as her eyes widen. “The stone! W-Where is it?! I-I had it—” Her voice now erratic as she lifts her head up off the bag glancing all around the room.

“Twilight please! You’re hurt and you need to rest.” I impose while trying to keep her down.

“The stone it’s somewhere around here. Aireal I think I must’ve dropped it behind all the gears and levers. It looks pretty cramped back there and I don’t think I’ll be able to reach back behind all of that.”

She finally calms down and rests her head back against the tent bag I rolled up. I don’t want her to jolt back up as I fear something might happen with her injury.

“Just lay here, and I’ll see if I can get it.” I say while gently resting the little sack of ice onto Twilight’s welt on her forehead.

I tuck her in with the tarp making sure there is no room for the cold air to enter. Her eyes stare at me in a mix of confusion and . . . flattery I believe. Her eyes follow me as I am brought with the challenge of trying to find the stone behind the mass of crushed mechanics. The spaces are so dark I can’t see anything, and they’re so thin I suppose Twilight just wouldn’t be able to fit her hooves through the spaces. I stop and think, perhaps I could find a pole or stick of some sort. But I don’t think I’ll find one in these couple carts of the train. I consider running outside and finding a tree branch to reach back there, but my body already begins to tense up just thinking about the cold. Also, what if there’s something out there just waiting for me to leave the safety of this train. It just seems like too big a risk just for a way to reach back behind the machine, but I have to get the stone out and I feel so anxious that I don’t want to wait until day time. Flustered with myself I run my hand through my hair trying to think of another way, then it hits me. I look at my hand and arm realizing that I could most definitely reach back there myself. With my arm being much thinner than Twilight’s hoof I think I could fit through the spaces.

Ready and excited to put my plan to the test I sit down near the engine and squeeze my hand through the space nearest the floor as I suspect that if she dropped it it most likely rolled behind it all. Blindly I maneuver my arm through the maze of machinery accidentally jamming my hand into many blunt and sharp pieces of metal. After a few good minutes of feeling around and trying several different openings to find the stone I’m still at a loss. While shoving my arm into another open crevasse I feel my hand hit something loose as I can hear it roll around. Afraid of hitting it again I freeze and carefully try to move my hand slowly to find the object. I fear I may have lost it after that little incident, I just hope it wasn’t the stone. Suddenly my index finger touches something small and loose. Nervously I wrap my fingers around the object and pull it out of the dark. I realize that what I have in my palm is just a metal bolt, and so a heavy sigh ensues. I toss the metal bolt into a pile of snow off to the side and resume my search.

Desperate for the stone I shove my entire arm through as the metal scratches against my shoulder. I feel around and find that beyond is a wall of metal that I cannot pass through. So, I feel around the perimeter of the wall making sure not to miss any crack or crevasse the stone could possibly be stuck in. Feeling around my hand glides over something edgy. Something has nestled itself in a fold of crushed metal. I grab hold of it and struggle to pull it loose because of how smooth the object is. However after a bit of finagling I finally get it to come loose and into the palm of my hand. I retract my arm hopeful that the object isn’t just another metal bolt, and after opening up my fist I see that it is indeed the stone.

“Have you found it? Oh, you have. Thank goodness, I thought it was lost for good.” Says Twilight. “I . . . I could’ve sworn the last time I held it it was glowing. Can I see it?”

I hand over the stone to Twilight as she holds it in her hooves carefully inspecting it front to back with her eyes fixated on its empty surface.

“Strange . . . I can sense its power but . . . it feels as though it’s weakening. It must be lying dormant for the time being to conserve its energy. I fear it won’t be long before it completely runs out.”

That means soon, we won’t have the warmth and protection this stone has granted us as long as we held it. Soon, it will be nothing more than a little glassy stone. I hope that it’ll start to glow again soon. It has saved our lives numerous times, I don’t know what would happen if we were to lose the stone and I would rather not think too much about it.

“I . . . I didn’t think the radius of its protection was broad enough to keep them protected. All because of me, ‘I’ was the one that should have known.”

“Twilight, it wasn’t your—”

“It’s because of me and my misjudgment that those monsters took them all away!”

“What do you mean? What happened?” I ask.

Twilight remains silent as she stares up at the ceiling as if lost in her own mind.

“Twilight, what happened?” I ask once more.

“After we lost you, we decided to press on as the train station was in our view. We walked and walked, we were alone but . . . I felt like we were being watched. Not a single word was shared amongst us through the whole trail of snow and ice. Finally we reached it, we wasted no time to hurry inside. That’s when we found the train, and I made sure that we stopped for a break. I could tell that everypony was tired and cold, and desperate for a moment of peace. Once we set up camp all they talked about was what might be happening to Adarrell and the rest. After they got all of that out of their system it was Wick Flame that lightened up the mood. It was then during that time that we could unwind and relieve ourselves of the stress that had built up in us. Afterwards, we found the only remaining train and that its engine was still capable of running; it just took a little engineering from Nuts-n-Bolts to get it up and fully functional. It seemed like . . . like everything was going to turn out alright. That is until . . . we began our course to Canterlot. It all seemed clear, and since it was light out we felt it was the safest time to go ahead and travel. We were wrong. The train began to shake as if something was pounding on it. We took one look out the windows and . . . we saw them. A flock of those winged monsters from before smashing into both sides of the train. They began to cling onto the roof and peck at the windows sending glass flying around the cart. We all cowered near the walls as the train rocked left and right due to their excessive ramming into its sides. We began to ascend up the mountain, and then . . . they started pecking through the roof. Tearing and peeling it apart. They stuck their big menacing heads in and snatched them away one by one. Wick Flame tried to save them, but they took him just as easily. And where was I? Cowering in the engine room! Without my magic I felt useless and helpless. I thought we were going to be safe, but they were taken right before my eyes-it didn’t matter how close together we were. After they took Wick I locked myself in the engine room, and they began to peck and bash at the door. And before the door could bust apart it all stopped, and everything went dark. . . The next thing I know I’m still in the train, still on the way to the castle. Then, I heard their voices. They looked just like them.”

Twilight’s voice is now beginning to sound hysterical.

“I-It was the sisters, Wick and the engineer. They kept calling my name, begging me for help. S-So I ran and hid in the engine room. The whole room was becoming covered in ice, and they kept pounding on the door. A-And then when they broke through the door I saw . . . her.”

“. . . Who?” I ask.

“I-It was a mare. It was hard to clearly see what she looked like, but she was mostly white, and her eyes were dark. I only caught a glimpse of her before I woke up. . . I don’t know, I suppose it was just a nightmare.”

“I’ve had nightmares too.”

“Really? And what are they like?”

“I-I’ve seen a mare too. . . She had a curly white mane, and her coat was a powdery blue. Sh-She had this flowing dress as white as the snow, and when I looked at her . . . I felt so afraid.”

Twilight seems to be very interested and a bit uneasy by my story, and without a response from her I guess I might as well keep going.

“Sometimes I . . . I hear her voice. She tells me to do things that . . . I never would do. But I listen, because I’m afraid.”

As I speak about the mare and her voice I see her image in my head, and her voice ringing in my ears. I begin to tremble, and I see Twilight glance down at my shaking hands and then back up at me. Her face is full of concern.

“I-I don’t know who she is or what she wants but . . . but she just won’t go away.”

“You’ve heard . . . her voice?”

“Y-Yes.”

Twilight looks away from me and up at the ceiling in silence. Distraught by her sudden quietness I begin to assume that maybe she believes that I’ve gone insane. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her, for all I know she might be planning her escape right now. That look on her face, she’s thinking deeply about something.

“Aireal, do you remember that night where I left camp and went into the woods?” She asks moving her eyes back towards me.

I nod, and she continues.

“I never did tell any of you why I did that did I? . . . Well, it’s because I was afraid of what you all would think of me if I told you. But now, I feel obligated. . . That night, as I slept in our tent, I was awakened by something . . . a mare’s voice. She told me that . . . that if I followed her voice, then she would take me to one of my friends. So I crept away, only to see that she was—!”

Twilight begins to become flustered.

“. . . That she was just like the rest. Frozen in that accursed ice!”

Twilight then starts to take a few consecutive deep breaths to calm herself down.

“Aireal.” She continues. “If you’re telling me the truth then that means that there are forces at work here that we don’t quite understand. Now, I don’t believe in anything supernatural-nothing even pertaining to that certain topic. I most certainly do not believe that we are having a shared delusion or anything like that, but . . . I don’t know what else it could be. This mare, or whatever she is, I feel that she plays a part in all of this. I-I just feel it. And, I have a hunch that she’s not here to be friendly. And this. . .”

Twilight then holds out the still dull stone in her hoof.

“This, is what’s going to keep us safe. It healed the one mare of her sickness, and it protected the two sisters during the invasion of the winged creatures. I just hope that it begins glowing again soon. Now Aireal, I need you to make me a promise.”

“W-What is it?”

“If either you or I see this mare again promise me, that no matter what she might do or say, you will ‘not’ let her persuade you to do or think anything. Don’t let her get inside your head. Okay?”

“Yes I-I promise.” I stutter.

“Good.”

Feeling that there really isn’t much else to be said I get up and walk over to the bulky bag. I dig around inside getting a better look at all the shiny metal tins noticing they all are unmarked. They feel a bit heavy, which only makes me even more curious as to what their contents could be.

“Hey, you never told me how you came back. I thought you were . . . gone.” Says Twilight.

“Well . . . I was falling, and an icy slide caught me. I followed it all the way down, and I hit my head pretty hard on something. When I woke up I thought I saw . . . I thought I saw Trixie. So I chased after her, only to fall again. But this time I was in a strange cave. Th-There were these stones embedded in the rocky walls just like the one you have. Then I . . . I met a mare. She was clear as glass, and she . . . she showed me things. About myself.”

“So you found the caverns huh? I was wondering what happened to them. I can’t believe the whole valley iced over. But anyway, what did you learn while you were down there?”

“Just a little bit more about my past, and a reminder of what I’m after. But, I still feel there’s so much missing.”

“Well, I’m just glad to see you alive. . . Say, what do you have there? Are those canned foods?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Here, hand me one.”

I hand Twilight one of the metal cans and she begins to inspect it.

“Hmm I don’t see a label or anything; let’s try to get it open. Do you have an opener for this?”

Reaching over I take the can back from Twilight. Digging around back in the bag I pull out the can-opener . . . except I don’t know how to use it. I stare at it blankly trying to figure out just how it works as she watches me and my cluelessness.

“You do know how to use one of those . . . right?” She asks.

“Well . . . um . . .”

“Just cut into the top around the edge, and cut all around until it comes completely off.”

With Twilight’s directions in mind I jab the sharp end of the utensil as close to the edge of the can as possible, and proceed to make several more cuts around the rim. Carefully I lift up and break off the lid to reveal the liquidly contents inside. Inside the liquid appears very brownish in color, and I can barely see anything through it except for a few brightly colored lumps of something.

“Well? What’s in it?” Twilight asks.

I reach into the bag and take out a spoon. As I stir the contents of the can I feel solid lumps moving about beneath the liquid. Lifting the spoon I find it’s caught a few pieces of chopped carrots, celery, and small noodles.

“It’s soup.” I say.

“Oh good, my stomach feels completely empty. It must’ve been days since I’ve last eaten.”

Twilight says as she stirs around under the tarp trying to sit herself up. As I hand over the open can to Twilight she takes it in her hooves. I then take out another metal can and proceed to dig the can-opener into the top as she begins to sip the soup from her can. After opening the can and grabbing the shiny silver spoon from the bag I rest against the door to the engine room with Twilight opposite of me. We spend a few silent minutes eating the cold soup, but to me, it feels just as refreshing if it were warm. The feeling of the tasty broth traveling down my throat and into my empty stomach is so blissful with the soft vegetables to fill in the gaps. Lost in the pleasure of finally filling myself with food Twilight suddenly speaks.

“I just don’t understand. . .”

“What?” I ask after swallowing the broth in my mouth.

“‘You’, I just don’t understand ‘you’.  You do all this for me: you sit here for hours, keeping me warm from the cold, concerned about my injuries, and I haven’t shown a single bit of gratitude. . . Why? Why do you do it?”

“I . . . I just. . .” I trail off unable to produce an answer.

Staring at Twilight I myself begin to wonder. I mean, I just considered it to be the right thing to do. It would be painful to deal with the guilt of leaving behind a pony in need. That’s why I turned myself around after I left Twilight in the bakery. I just couldn’t do it, no matter how many times I tried to convince myself. Perhaps, I just don’t want to bear the thought of being alone. If I had to traverse these hills of snow by my lonesome I do not believe I would make it very far. All this time I’ve needed someone’s help, or even ‘something’s’ help through a tough challenge. I can’t quite recall a time where I had to fend for myself. If anything, I should be asking her why she puts up with me. I haven’t been much help on this journey. I might as well just be considered a dead weight, because that’s exactly what I am. Just a bag of flesh and bone being dragged along just waiting to be captured or torn apart by whatever awaits beyond the snow. All this time I spent thinking to myself a deep silence has fallen upon the room.

“I uh . . . I never thanked you for saving me back at my library. So, thank you.” Says Twilight.

“You’re welcome. . .”

And the night continues as the storm outside rages on. Accompanied by the wind are the sounds of snow hitting against the walls of the train and my spoon tapping the walls of my can. Neither Twilight nor I use our voices to break the constant drone of the storm, instead we sit in silence. Once our cans are cleaned dry of any left-over broth Twilight makes a suggestion.

“Why don’t we get some rest? We’re going to need it for tomorrow, we’ve got quite a hike ahead of us.” She says.

With that Twilight covers herself up in the tent tarp and rests her head down on the rolled up bag I set out for her. I stretch out my legs and with my back already against the door I rest my head back and cross my arms to try and keep warm. However, all the holes and tears in my jacket and pants don’t make it very easy. I shut my eyes and attempt to make myself comfortable, but I cannot hold my eye lids down for long as they flare back open within an instant. My hands are frozen, so I cup them together and blow my breath beneath them. As I repeat the process I rub my hands together to maybe generate some warmth, and it works, for my hands anyway. I don’t want to make too much noise as I know Twilight is trying to get some rest, and the last I would want to do is keep her awake. I draw my legs in and wrap my arms around my kneecaps. I need to fall asleep, because if I don’t then I’ll be too tired to move in the morning. Maybe if I just lay down and rest my head on the bag that held the cans I’ll eventually fall to sleep.

“ . . . Aireal.” Says Twilight startling me as I take out the extra can of soup and silverware from the bag.

“Y-Yes?”

“I have an idea.”

Twilight then digs herself out from under the tent and grasps the big rolled up bag. She tosses it over near me and she then grabs the tent tarp with her teeth and walks over to me. She fluffs her bag-pillow and sets it down alongside the bag I was planning on using.

“Go on, lay down.” She says.

Confused I lay my head down onto the bag and she lays her head down against hers. The both of us lying down she pulls the tarp over our bodies.

“There, now we both should be plenty warm through the night.”

Twilight then takes a breath and shuts her eyes as she makes herself comfortable under the tarp and her head against the bag.

“See you in the morning.” She says.

“. . . Thank you.”

“No problem, now just get some sleep.”

As Twilight tries to get to sleep I lay mystified by Twilight’s actions. I never would have expected her to be content with being ‘this’ close to me. It just feels so strange how she seems to have changed from before. But, I come to realize that I don’t feel at all tense; instead I feel . . . comfortable. I never thought I would feel comfort except for the times where I held that glowing stone. I already begin to feel warmer, but my eyes still are not relaxed as I stare up at the ceiling. They begin to restlessly jump around the room until they are captured by the story book on the floor nearby. It’s still opened and face down to the floor just how I left it. I remember I left off in the middle of something and I just have to know what happens. Besides, maybe a little bit of reading will help me sleep. Careful not to disturb Twilight I reach over and bring over the book. I hold it up and hunt for the sentence I left off on. . . Ah, here it is.

. . . The wind is nearly pushing them down to the ground covered by high layers of snow. Meriva can feel her skirt blowing crazily along with her tail behind her, as she shivers violently for warmth. She wants to beg Dawston to turn around and retreat back home where there’s warmth and comfort, but she can barely hear her own thoughts with the wind swirling in her ears. Until suddenly she feels Dawston’s hoof slip from her grasp.

“Dawston! Dawston where are you?! Dawston!” She screams.

Without a response she stops in the middle of the blizzard unsure of what to do. She looks all around at her surroundings and can barely see two feet ahead of her. She knows she can’t just stand around and freeze, she has to find Dawston . . . wherever he may be. Blindly she presses on through the snow shouting Dawston’s name without end. As she pushes her hooves into the thick snow with every step she can feel just how much deeper the snow has gotten. Her voice has grown weak, and her hooves have turned completely numb. Yet despite the cold, the pain, the misery, she still moves forward continuing her cries.

“Dawston! . . . Daws—!”

The ground beneath Meriva gives way causing her to fall and tumble down the rocky mountainside. Her legs, body and head meet the solid stone underneath the soft snow sending shrieks of pain through the entirety of her body. Her body continues to thrash about against the rocks like a doll that has been tossed away. The slope of the mountain begins to lift up and slows Meriva’s ride downward. She desperately tries to grasp something, anything to stop herself. Her body rolls off the cliff, but she is able to hang onto the edge with her numb hooves. Her bruised and battered body hangs off the edge, and she can already feel her grip loosening. The pain and fear flowing through her veins pushes tears out her eyes and whimpers out of every breath. She tries to lift her broken body up, but she doesn’t have the strength.

She can only wait until the inevitable. She loses all her grip and plummets further down the mountain. Slamming against the snow-covered rocky hill she continues her painful descent. Until her hind legs slam against the trunk of a tall pine tree, then she is tossed into a deep pile of snow. It feels like every last bone in her legs have been shattered like glass along with everything else. Her head aches horribly, and her back is completely tensed. Her eyes burn from the never-ending tears as she draws in breath after painful breath. Slowly, the pain begins to disappear, and her vision starts to blur. She cannot feel cold, nor heat; her legs, or body. Her eyes blur until the white snow turns dark, and the sounds of the harsh winds silence. The only sound she can hear is her torn heart slowing its rhythm. The doors to her eyes shut, trapping her in darkness. The thumping of her heart comes to a steady halt, and her blood turns cold.

Yet, she can feel herself . . . drifting, her mane being blown against her face. Her fore-hooves no longer numb, but her heart still feels missing. She opens the doors to her sight once again, and it’s as though she’s flying, soaring like a bird with the snow and around the mountainside. It feels like a dream, but it looks so real. She glides her eyes around the landscape, and she almost naturally outstretches her forelegs just like a bird would. She lowers her head to see the pine trees below, and she begins to descend. Afraid, she lifts her head back up, and her body is brought back up. She then begins to wonder, and leans to the left. Now soaring to the left she leans to the right, and so she soars to the right. She can feel a smile spread across her face, and she then takes full control of her flight gliding wherever she pleases. She twirls and loops in the air as she lets out a joyful laughter through her strengthened voice.

She flips herself as if she were laying along the wind as it carries her weightless body with it. She gazes up at the thick poufy clouds still pouring the snow onto the land, yet she feels not a single flake of it. Suddenly, the clouds up above begin to part away from each other as the dark cloak of the night sky is revealed, and the stares peak out through the curtain. Her eyes catch a glimpse of something white waving about near the horizon. She looks, and finds that it’s merely just her dress flowing in the wind. Playfully, she spins as her dress follows suit. Meriva fixes herself back around, and her eyes catch something down below. Along the mountainside she sees a disturbance in the snow, as if something has plowed right into it. She changes her direction to soar towards it, curious as to what it may be. She hovers nearby, and it comes clear what the object buried in the snow is. Meriva finds a mare half buried in a pile of snow, with a greyish coat and brick red mane just like her. However, it doesn’t take her very long to figure out that the mare is indeed her. In horror she stares at her own cold, stiff, lifeless body.

The wind suddenly grows stronger as the snow blows across Meriva’s face. She can feel herself filling with anxiety as she covers her eyes from the horrible sight. But she notices that something strange has happened to her hooves, they’ve become almost transparent. As she stares down at her hooves with a dropped jaw the bangs of her mane get in the way of her eyes; and as she parts them away she finds that her mane is no longer brick red, but instead a bright white. Meriva shoots up from the snow and back into the air filled with adrenaline and only one thought on her mind: Dawston. Around and around she flies by the mountain her eyes jerking left and right checking every last inch of its snowy surface shouting Dawston’s name. Her cries echo in the air and follow her by the winds. She follows the mountain all the way to its top and no sight of Dawston. She can feel herself growing feverish as her eyes fill with tears. She covers her eyes with her hooves as her tears fall straight through them. ‘This I just a dream; this is just a dream’ she repeats to herself. All she wants is to wake up; to wake up in her bed and breathe in the morning air with the sound of the chirping birds at her window.

Meriva opens her eyes, and through her hooves lights from far in the distance diffuse. Lowering her transparent hooves she sees her town as the streetlights and windows of buildings glow in the night. She must return home, and find somepony that can help her. With her teary eyes fixed on her town the winds blow and carry her towards the lights. She can feel her heart pounding, as if her heart were still in her chest.

The chapter ends and my mind is left befuddled. Could it . . . ? No, it couldn’t be. I’m sure it must just be a coincidence, there’s no way. . . I should just keep my mind off the idea. I need to get some sleep, or else I’ll be too tired in the morning. Quietly I close the book and gently lay it down on the floor next to me. Twilight is now sleeping soundly with her head nestled comfortably atop her rolled up bag. Suddenly she stirs and turns over facing towards me with her eyes still closed, and she huddles up her forelegs trying to make herself comfortable. I don’t know what it is, but I feel . . . safe. Just knowing that she’s right here lying next to me gives me this sense of security that not even the glowing stone could give. I suppose since the stone can’t speak, or feel, it just isn’t the same as having someone with you that can. I see that the tarp is starting to come away from Twilight’s body, so I carefully reach over and tuck it back so that she is completely covered. My eyes have finally grown tired, and so I gently shut them closed. And now I wait, wait for tomorrow.