A cold breeze swirled around the town. It swept through streets, over rooftops and rustled leaves still remaining on soon-to-be-bare trees. It dislodged a single, browning maple leaf from the branch of a particularly large one, which drifted down in slow swirls to the crowd of ponies below. The snips of air that managed to slip between the fur on their pelts caused them to flinch, but not a single emotion graced their faces as they stared forward, standing close together for warmth and support. In stark contrast to the norm around Equestria, they were not there to celebrate or socialize.

The body laying above a hole in the ground was why they were there.

It lay still on his back, the muscles beneath the vermilion stiff and rigid. A tired and wrinkled face remained motionless as the breeze tousled the salt-and-pepper colored mane that hung above it. Its eyes were squeezed firmly shut. His forehooves were crossed above his barrel, giving him an almost ethereal look. To his right stood another pony wearing a black cloak over his honey colored body. He was a unicorn, young and spry with ruby colored eyes. In his magical cerulean aura, a sheet of parchment levitated before him, words scrawled across it. There were not many of them, but they said all that needed to be.

“It was my father's final wish—” the unicorn paused to look at the crowd for a second “—to be buried here, among the trees that provided his livelihood. In the shade of the first tree he ever tended, the tree where he shared his first kiss with his future wife and where... where he taught his foals to value nature. There was no other place he wanted to spend the rest of eternity.”

The crowd watched on in complete silence as the unicorn tried to compose himself, wiping away a stray tear before continuing with his eulogy. Despite the chill, the stallion shivered more from the sadness of his words than the weather. Above them, dark gray clouds were gathering, complementing the mood. Some sniffles left the group as mares dabbed their eyes while the lower lips of the stallions quivered.

Behind the mass, nopony noticed as a lone figure dressed in a black cloak with a hat pulled down over its face strode into their ranks. The pony was tall: not much bigger than any one of them, but enough that it should have drawn looks. The figure slowly weaved its way to the front and took a place between two other ponies dressed in the same way. There they stood, while the grass and leaves on the ground made small noises as a slow drizzle of rain began to fall.

Glancing away from his paper, the unicorn looked up with derision before returning to it. The rain would only get harder as time went on, so he had to improvise.

“Before his death, my father asked that a special ceremony be performed for him. He always believed in the Rite of the Roses: the tradition of asking for safe passage to a soul’s resting place. In accordance with his wishes, I ask that the bearers of the roses begin the ritual.”

Before another word could be spoken, the three figures began to walk forward, each perfectly in time with the others. The tall one in the center neared the body and stopped before it while the other two flanked it. As one, the shorter pair reached into their cloaks and brought out a small white bag, untying them slowly as the unicorn continued with his speech.

“The Rite of the Roses is an ancient tradition dating back a thousand years. In those times, ponies believed that the rose was a ward against evil and that its petals could be used to pay for safe voyage to the next life.”

As he spoke, the two mares began to gently spread fresh red rose petals from the bags over the sides of the deceased pony with meticulous care. They fell to the gurney the body lay on, becoming a bed of crimson around him. The third pony stayed still as the other two worked; it stood as rigid as the corpse before it lay.

“Today, though, the Rite has taken on a more physical than spiritual meaning. Venerated Royal Guards, nobility and those of great importance are given the ritual at their funerals as a sign of respect. Princess Celestia herself once performed the Rite for a beloved friend of hers, as a prayer for safety and a thank you for all they did for her.”

With an awkward sigh, the stallion looked skyward and said, “We ask a peaceful journey for this soul to find his well-deserved rest and present the finest roses to pay for the voyage.”

By the time the unicorn had finished, the rainfall had thickened. The Bearers stood still as the rainwater ran down their cloaks. A thick layer of petals lined the body below, making a bed for him to rest in. Above them, a low rumble of thunder echoed across the sky, signaling the bearers to move back to the group. The two slowly turned and walked past the taller one, striding as smoothly as if they were on ice.

Instead of joining the fellow bearers, the taller one remained in front of the corpse.

“On behalf of my family, thank you all for showing up today. If my father were alive, he would be so happy to see all of you here.”

The unicorn spoke with finality. The rain had drenched his light purple mane, making his frown seem more pointed. After rolling up his parchment, the stallion walked off to the crowd as a loud and slow song began to play, drowning out the noises from the rain.

At the body, the tall pony stayed rooted in its spot even as the body was lowered into the ground. From behind, a couple of short sobs carried over the song, causing the pony to turn its head.

Behind it stood the unicorn speaker, staring sadly at the body while a light pink mare hugged close to him, her lime green eyes watering up more than the gentle rain falling around them could produce. At their hooves stood three small fillies, each one looking more devastated than the next. Together, the powder-blue unicorn, the sandy-colored earth pony and the pink unicorn held each other, trying to not break down into uncontrollable tears.

From beneath the bearer’s black hat, a glittering, crystal-blue eye watched the small group. Silence filled the air as the sound of the rain and music faded away into the background.

How nice it must be to be remembered.

The pony turned back to the body. It had descended about halfway down into the hole before a soft scarlet glow began to shine through the back hat. A much brighter version of the light enveloped the body, remaining in a fixed place while the body passed through it. It took a couple of seconds to see the results of the aura, but eventually the pony smiled beneath her hat as a bright and pulsing orb of white light emerged from the body, housed by the aura. With as much care as a pony handling an antique porcelain teapot, the aura lifted from the hole with the orb inside.

The rain had picked up considerably by the time the body was finally laid to rest, forcing all but the small family and the tall bearer to leave in search of shelter. The music eventually stopped as well, leaving only the dull drumming of the rain to fill the void. Narrowing her eyes, the taller pony began to bring the orb to itself.

“Bye bye, Grampy,” a small filly said, her voice cutting through the rain like a crack of thunder. Curious, the bearer turned to see the small trio of fillies take a step closer to the site.

“We love you,” the second one spoke.

“An we weally wish you were here wight now,” the third one finished, tears running down her cheeks faster than the rain could.

Almost immediately, the white orb reacted to their words, changing to a vibrant lemon yellow color in seconds. It quivered slightly in the aura, drawing the bearer's attention away from the trio. Looking back at it, a cold stab of fear began to grow in the bearer’s chest. Instead of becoming spooked by it, though, the bearer merely watched the orb as if it were an interesting curio.

“Come along, girls,” came a mare's voice that sounded on the verge of cracking. “Let's let Grampy sleep for a bit. We can visit him later, okay?”

The orb pulsed brightly at those words and it shot out small beams of pointed yellow light into the aura. The bearer remained silent as the sounds of the family walking faded away into the rain. Alone with the orb, the bearer reached a hoof up and pushed the hat back, revealing a bushy rose-colored mane that seemed implausible to have been kept in the hat. She shook her head, allowing it to puff out into a comfortable size, which revealed a long black horn enveloped by the same aura that held the orb. She raised her head, revealing a black muzzle and ears from beneath the bushy mane. When she opened her eyes, only one crystal blue iris shone in the rain. In the other eye, a twinkling golden iris stared back at the orb. When the feeling of fear heightened in her chest, she allowed a smile to grace her muzzle.

“Shush, little one,” she cooed. “There is no need to fear the darkness. I will guide you through it.”

The orb’s violent shade seemed to lessen slightly, but it remained predominantly lemon-colored. Her smile widened more, revealing two long canines on either side of her mouth.

“I am a friend to you, though you have never met me before. Fear not, for you are in my most capable hooves now.”

The color lessened even more, revealing a hint of that familiar, silvery white it had when she obtained it. Closing her eyes, the mare took a deep breath. When she reopened them, they glowing the brightest of whites.

“Charmane will see you to safety.”

She spoke with a tone of both sternness and care. Closing her eyes once more, she turned and began to walk away from the grave. The orb slowly pulsed with each step she took. As she strode, her form became more transparent, fading slowly into the cold early autumn air.