The older you get, the more and more you notice the days start to run together. They become nothing more than a string of the same old thing, day in, day out, living by the amount of time you figure you have left. Friends come and go, and you realize with each passing year that that is just the way of things. You don’t mourn for the dead, instead you congratulate them. You crack jokes with the still-living which one of you is going to croak next. I did not fear the coming of my time, in fact I embraced it. I only wished it would come sooner, so I could leave the rut that was my life behind and onto the next adventure that waited.
My days were, as you may have already reasoned, extremely uneventful. I woke and rose shakily from my bed, cursing my back as I walked down the hall to make hot cocoa, just as I did every day. I would sit outside on a reclining chair in front of my house and watch the ponies of Canterlot take delight in their youth, just as I did every day. The younger ponies filled me with joy, so unaware of their inevitable demise, so free and uncaring. I spent every day doing the same thing; That is, until a certain lavender unicorn decided to pay me a little visit.
I was crankier than usually due to the weather. I was unable to enjoy the sunlight because of the torrential downpour that was taking place outside. It was a necessary evil. The pegasi planned a storm that was scheduled every three years to restore life to Equestria. I sighed, wishing I wasn’t forced to be cooped up in my house for the next few days. Sitting down on my dusty sofa, I took a long draw of my cocoa, and proceeded to stare intently into my lit fireplace. Lost in thought, I started to doze off. Just as I was about to slip from consciousness, my oncoming sleep was promptly interrupted by a loud pounding on my door.
“Who would be outside in this kind of weather?” I spoke aloud to myself as I stood stiffly to my hooves.
I made my way to the door, now worried for the sake of the pony on the other side of the door. I made it to the wooden frame and prepared to open it, but was shocked to see it fly open on its own. The figure that stood before me was small in stature, at least a head shorter than me, feminine in shape, and above all else, soaking wet.
I smiled warmly at my eager houseguest. “You must be freezing,” I said with a quick look over the pony shaking in the doorway. “Come on in and make yourself at home, I’ll get you a blanked and some hot cocoa.”
She stared at me for a moment, and then snickered. A flash of her horn cascaded her in purple magic, sending her mane and tail floating in a magical veil. When the magic receded, she was completely dry, her mane stylized in a modern fashion, with lighter pink and purple streaks of color.
“The blanket won’t be necessary, thanks. But that cocoa does sound pretty good right about now.”
We sat in the living room. The fire had burned down to mere coals, casting a low light about the walls of my home. I made a move to throw more wood on it, but one of the logs was already being thrown onto the fire on its own, aided by the same purple magic. The unicorn sat in the middle of the rug, silently tending to the fire, her cocoa floating about her head as she worked.
“So for what reason does the great and powerful Twilight Sparkle have for showing up at my doorstep during the Storm of the Century?” I said. She paused, halting her work and turned to face me.
“You know who I am?” she said, looking confused.
“Young mare, you seem to forget all you have done for this nation. Everypony in Equestria knows who you are.”
She was silent, staring into the fire for a brief moment. She levitated her saddlebag over from the wall by the door producing from it a single object. It was a book; one that I was extremely familiar with.
I chuckled. “And where did you find that exactly,” I said, observing the leather bound manuscript, watching the fire play off the bright silver insignia emblazoned on the front.
“It was in the Canterlot library. I was studying up on the recent history of Equestria, and found this hidden on a bookshelf behind the section on the Pony Civil Rights movement. It doesn’t make any sense…
The only pony I had ever heard talk about ghosts before was my friend Pinkie Pie. She said that ghosts weren’t real, and this book was… malarkey, I think was the word she used. She said there was nothing to be afraid of. I read it from cover to cover, and wasn’t able to sleep at all after I read it. I was racking my brain on the subject. There was no evidence to support the existence of ghosts.
“I had to know. I came all the way back to Canterlot, trying to find the author of this book. You made it a lot harder to find you than I thought, Relapse, but Celestia knows many things, and it’s pretty useful being the student of a thousand year old princess when you want to learn something about our past.”
I nodded slowly. “So what is it exactly that you want to know?”
Twilight jerked the book toward me for emphasis. “Why are you the only one who has ever written on this subject? What is your reasoning for writing a comprehensible guide to something that doesn’t even exist? It’s been bothering me for days. Please, just tell me the point of this book so I can get some sleep.”
I laughed harder than ever. “My dear, you still have much to learn about the world around you. Not everything is as black and white as what you can see. Ghosts are very much a real thing. Throw some more wood on the fire, please. You’re going to be here for a while.
“I could simply tell you about the Departed, and why nopony has ever written on the subject, but I think it would make more sense to you if I started from the beginning.”
The fire crackled loudly with the weight of more logs. Twilight settled into a more comfortable position as lightning shook the small shelter. I took the book in hoof, and flipped through the pages, preparing to begin my tale from the beginning.