//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5: Don Juan Triumphant 
// Story: The Secrets of Bitmore Theater 
// by Kegisak 
//------------------------------//


Don Juan Triumphant


        Bitmore Theater was ablaze.
        That is to say it was ablaze with activity. A subtle sense of commotion hung over the entire building as frenzied fashionistas and desperate designers bustled here and there. They pinched thread and needles and pilfered bolts of fabric from one another, working as hard as they could to have their creations complete for that evening.
        Repairs were complete, with some small exceptions. The workers had left the theater itself, retiring beneath a heavy tarp that obscured the front of the theater to complete their work. The interior was magnificent. Pillars of the purest white stretched up to the high ceilings, closing in seats and carpets of crimson and holding up balconies swathed in gold. These vivid reds and golds coloured the halls as well. The splendid colours were sure to please the eye of any and all visitors, for that night and the many nights to come. To Sweetie Belle, however, it was deeply disquieting. Wherever she looked, she saw fire.
        Sweetie lingered on a corner, saddlebags clutched to her chest, while Silver Spoon checked ahead as quickly as she could manage. The workers may have gone, but the designers were out in abundance, slowing the pair's pace to a crawl. Silver's parents had vetoed most of the back halls so that Silver and Sweetie would not get underhoof. As a result, Silver was checking around every last corner, just in case.
        Silver beckoned for Sweetie to follow her and slipped down the next hallway. Sweetie swung the saddlebags over her back and dashed after Silver, falling in close behind. They stopped for just a moment as a tired-looking stallion cantered down the crossing hall. Then they were off again, slinking and skulking with all the prowess of mares too young and too small to care about.
        Silver moved with a quiet sort of ease that Sweetie couldn't quite mimic. Perhaps because she could not quite understand it. If they were caught now they would be pulled out of the halls and placed under an adult's watchful eye, and they would be unable to stop whatever The Phantom was planning. For that matter, even if they made it into the prop rooms unseen, they were minutes away from the final confrontation with The Phantom. Yet Silver—Silver, who just yesterday had been paralyzed with fear at the sight of The Phantom—seemed perfectly calm.
        Sweetie was terrified. She kept her legs tight for fear that, if she let them relax, her knees would wobble so violently that they would knock together and give them both away. There was a cold stone in her gut when she thought back over the plan. There was excitement in there as well, she would admit, but it was mostly fear.
        Silver stopped them at another corner, across a three-way intersection from a door to the prop rooms. Silver poked her head around the corner, checking down both paths, and then signaled for them to cross. Sweetie was well-practiced by now, and she darted through the door without so much as a sideways glance. She trusted that Silver would not let her be seen.
        The door slipped shut behind the pair with a soft clunk, and Sweetie felt some of her tension dissolve. She exhaled audibly, setting her saddlebags on the floor and moving away from the door. “Wow, Silver,” she said. “I can't believe you're so calm! We were sneaking for like, five minutes. Weren't you worried we were gonna get caught?”
        Silver laughed and rubbed her eyes. In the dim light Sweetie Belle could see her shoulders go slack, and she seemed to wobble on her hooves. “Oh, I've been doing that since I was little. But calm?” Silver asked. “I must just be so scared I can't shake anymore.” She leaned against a nearby box of costumes and held her hoof out in front of herself. It was perfectly still. She laughed weakly. “Yup,” she said. “I'm terrified.”
        Sweetie Belle giggled and joined her by the box. “Well... me too,” she said. “I know we've fought The Phantom before, and all... and I know we can beat him... but I'm still scared.” She rubbed her neck. “I don't know how Rarity handles it when she has adventures.”
        Silver smiled sardonically. “I guess having backup probably helps,” she said, almost to herself. She slid down the box, sitting on the floor and resting her head on her hooves.
        Sweetie Belle sat down beside her, leaning in. It was difficult to tell in the dark, but she thought she could see Silver blushing. She certainly felt warmer, which was more than welcome in the damp chill of the prop rooms. “Well,” Sweetie said, “we've got each other. That's backup, right?”
        Silver looked away and rubbed her chin, but smiled. “Right,” she said. “We've... got each other.” Her smile faded, too slight a change for Sweetie to notice in the dark, and she adjusted her glasses. “We should stay here for a while. To, uh... get collected. You know, try to calm down a bit before we fight The Phantom.”
        Sweetie Belle peered up at Silver. Her expression had taken on a quality that Sweetie knew well, that same stone-faced look she had worn while picking on Sweetie. Sweetie had almost forgotten her face could look so harsh. It had only been two days, but Sweetie had already gotten used to seeing the filly sad, angry, happy, and everything in between.
        As she looked closer, though, she started to see subtle hints. A crease in the brow, the suggestion of a squint, and just a touch of blush. Sweetie Belle smiled and leaned closer. “Okay,” she said. “That sounds like a good idea.”
        Silver managed to smile through her stony expression as well. “A-alright,” she said, adjusting her glasses. She settled in, leaning back against Sweetie Belle.
        As they sat, Sweetie's eyes began to adjust to the murk. The clouds had gone and the day was bright, which helped. Shafts of yellow light streaked through the open window, igniting a million motes of dust hanging in the air. Their light hardly stretched past the squares drawn on the floor, however, and the distance was still as dark as ever. Still, she could see well enough nearby, which she took advantage of.
        She scoured every inch of Silver's expression. There was little to see, and what it was was subtle. Her eyebrows were slanted over so slightly downwards, her eyes just the tiniest bit tight. The more Sweetie looked at her, the more pensive she seemed. “Yeah...” Sweetie said. “I'm not feeling that much calmer either...”
        Silver blinked and looked down at Sweetie. Then she laughed. “Well,” she said. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I'm still pretty freaked out. But... I think I'm ready, actually.” She shrugged her shoulders heavily and pushed herself back against the box. “I don't... want to do this. But it has to happen.” She sighed, and her expression faded back into that stony face. “I know what needs to happen. I know what I... what we need to do. And I'm ready to do it, I guess.” She let the words hang in the air for a moment before shooting Sweetie a sardonic smirk. “Not exactly a roaring battle cry, huh?”
        Sweetie Belle giggled. “I think it'd be pretty hard for us to come up with one.” She rubbed her chin. “Let's go beat up a ghost?”
        Silver's smile turned a bit more genuine. “Well, it works for me,” she said, throwing her hooves up comically. She clambered to her hooves, offering Sweetie a hoof up.
        Sweetie accepted it gratefully and levitated her saddlebags onto her back. “Then, let's go beat up a ghost!” she declared, mimicking Silver's gesture.
        In spite of Sweetie's eager words, the mood of their journey was dour and subdued. It had taken them most of the day just to slip away from watchful eyes, and a faint tinge of orange had already stained the waning sunlight. It provided more light that the dull gloom of a cloudy day or the soft vagueness of afternoon skies, but the prop rooms were no more welcoming for it. Orange and gold reflected across every surface that could shine, sloshing and spilling throughout the room like a liquid fire.
        By some miracle—or perhaps an illusion Sweetie hadn't known existed being dispelled—the light crept up even the walls, former shadows illuminated by the blaze. Those places that still remained dark were as smoke, impenetrable and suffocating. Far more so than the dark had ever been.
        Sweetie Belle shied close to Silver, drawing some warmth and strength from her against the deceptively cold rooms. The taller filly had jitters of her own, however, that much was clear. Though she did not openly tremble or quake as she had in the previous days, there was a clear tightness about her. It was as though she was plagued by a heat which Sweetie was not, and it had dried and stretched her skin taut across her frame.
        Regardless, she kept close to Sweetie as well. Whether to comfort Sweetie, or draw comfort from her, it was difficult to say. Perhaps it was both. Whichever it was, they both walked in silence through the creeping, cool flames.
        It was Sweetie who broke the silence first. “Tell me a story?” she asked.
        Silver blinked, pulled out of her thoughts. “What?” she asked. “What do you mean, tell you a story?”
        Sweetie shrugged and sidled closer. “I dunno,” she said. “I just... I'm scared, and you're scared, and I thought we could use something to take our minds off of it. While we walked.”
        Silver considered this, tapping her chin. “I guess... It's not a bad idea,” she said. “But I don't have any stories.”
        “Yes you do,” Sweetie insisted. The weight on her heart was already beginning to lift. “You have lots of stories, you've been telling me them all weekend!”
        “Only because you've been pulling them out of me like teeth,” Silver said with a wry laugh.
        Sweetie giggled as well. “It wasn't very hard,” she said. “Except for the first one. Why don't you tell me a story about your family?”
        Silver thought for a long moment, rubbing her chin. “Mmm... okay,” Silver said. “I think I know a good one, actually. But, if I tell it, then you have to tell the next one.”
        “You mean, if you finish before we make it to the Back Room?” Sweetie asked.
        “Sure,” Silver said with a shrug. “Or the next time we hang out?”
        Sweetie Belle grinned wider. The last vestiges of her fear were banished by the thought of spending time with Silver after this was all over. “Okay!” she agreed, nodding eagerly. “So what's your story?”
        Silver smirked at Sweetie. “Okay, okay,” she said. “I don't think it's worth getting that excited about. It's about me and my older sister.”
        “Oh, right,” Sweetie said. “You mentioned her last night... how come she isn't around?”
        Silver waved a hoof. “She's away pretty much all the time,” she said. “She does live in Ponyville, but not with us, and she isn't in Ponyville very much anyways. She's a musician, and she's always traveling around Equestria with her band—“
        “Your sister is a rock star?” Sweetie gasped.
        Silver snorted loudly. “Oh gods, no,” she said. “I don't think she even likes rock music. No, she's a classical musician. She has a few other mares and stallions she plays with for personal shows, or in symphonies or stuff. She's in Canterlot most of the time. She and I don't see each other very much, but we still get along really well.
        “My sister is... dedicated,” Silver said, in what struck Sweetie as an uncharacteristically diplomatic choice of words. “I'd call her obsessed but she knows a guy who's way worse, so I dunno.” She shrugged, and Sweetie giggled. Silver continued, “When I was little, she practiced a lot. She was just starting to do music professionally, too, so she was always out doing small shows to get by.”
        “Get by?” Sweetie interrupted. “But your family is super rich!”
        “Well... yeah,” Silver conceded, “but that didn't matter to her. I never really asked, but I think she wanted to do it by herself... I know Mom and Daddy still helped her out here and there, though. Anyways, she was working really hard trying to make it happen. She was out all the time, and when she wasn't out she was practicing, so I never got to see her. And at the time I was really young, so...”
        “So you thought she didn't like you?” Sweetie asked. Silver nodded, and no small pang of sympathy shot through Sweetie. She remembered the early days of Rarity's career—even the middle days when things had really begun to take off—and she had been busy all the time. It had been terribly easy to think that Rarity had no interest in her—or anypony else for that matter—as she sequestered herself in her room for weeks at a time.
        “That all happened when I was really little,” Silver continued. “I was still in acting classes, so while it didn't feel good to think my big sister didn't like me... well, let's just say that sometimes I feel like that's the reason I was so good at acting. Having something to do made it easier to take, so I kinda threw myself into it.” She laughed wryly, adjusting her glasses. “I guess we had that much in common.
        “When I couldn't act in the play, I felt pretty awful for a while,” Silver said. “Honestly, about as bad as I've ever felt. It isn’t that I avoid talking about it because it was embarrassing...” she paused for a moment and grimaced, adding, “Well. Not just, anyways.” She shook her head. “Anyways, it was a hard time for me. I was humiliated, and ashamed... for weeks, I didn't want to see anypony. I told everypony that I was sick, too sick to see them, or to go to school, or to leave my room at all. I even faked it when they checked my temperature and stuff. I stayed in my room for days, alone. I think they almost called a doctor to come see me.” She rubbed her neck. “I was dumb.”
        “You were little,” Sweetie cut in, frowning. “And your were hurt. You shouldn't be hard on yourself for that. I know how it feels.”
        The hint of a frown that had lingered on Silver's face faded, replaced by an equally small smile. “Thanks,” she said. “But it was still silly of me to turn away ponies who wanted to help me. But... after about a week of sulking, just when I thought that everypony had given up talking to me, my sister came into my room.
        “She wasn't even supposed to be home that day—she had a bunch of auditions in Canterlot, and was supposed to be gone all week. She didn't say anything at first, either. She just walked straight up to me and yanked me out of bed.” Silver laughed and rubbed her neck. “Boy, did I get an earful. She completely chewed me out—for scaring Mom and Daddy and Kelson, and for making her come home from Canterlot, and for lying to everypony instead of facing up.”
        Silver gaped. “That's awful!” she exclaimed.
        “Maybe,” Silver conceded, bobbing her head back and forth. “But it's not like she was wrong. I had just been too afraid to even admit how scared I was, so I lied instead of letting the ponies who cared about me understand and help. That's all she wanted, in the end, was to help.” Her smile, previously wry and embarrassed, turned nostalgic. “And after she was finished chewing me out, she played my favourite song for me. I used to sneak to her bedroom door whenever she was practicing that song, so I could hear it better. I don't know how she knew, but...” She rubbed her cheek. “She came all the way from Canterlot, missing auditions that could have gotten her career off the ground faster, just because she cared about me. I... well, I didn't think she didn't like me after that.”
        “Your sister sounds really nice,” Sweetie said, although she was still unsure. “I guess.”
        Silver grinned back. “She is, I promise,” she said. “She's quiet, and she doesn't always seem like it, but she's always thinking about other ponies. She'll go from doing a big show in Canterlot to playing at somepony's wedding for free, just because. I love her a lot, even though I don't see her that often.”
        “If it was me,” Sweetie said, “I'd still wish I could see Rarity more.”
        “Oh, I do, don't get me wrong,” Silver said. “But she's got her own life. I know that she has stuff that she needs to do, and she can't spend all her time with me.” She shrugged. “And I guess I got used to it anyways, since Mom and Daddy get busy sometimes too... even Kelson isn't there all the time. Everypony needs their space.”
        “I guess that's true,” Sweetie said. “And I guess if you put it like that, Rarity is busy a lot too.”
        “And your parents go on vacation,” Silver pointed out. “Anyways, it's your turn to tell a story.”
        Sweetie Belle blinked, and thought for a moment. “I...” she said slowly, wracking her mind, “don't have any stories...”
        Silver raised an eyebrow at this. “Yes, you do,” she said. “You must, after all the adventures you and the rest of your friends have had. There must be at least one!”
        “Well, I dunno,” Sweetie said with a weak laugh. “Telling stories is hard!”
        “You've had me doing it all weekend,” Silver said. “And I pretty much never talk about myself to anypony.”
        “So what makes me so special?” Sweetie Belle asked.
        Silver opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She flushed, then made an expression that made Sweetie blush in turn. “Y-you just need a prompt,” Silver said. “Since we're talking about sisters, why don't you tell me a story about Rarity? I'm sure the hero of Equestria has to spend some time with her sister, and get up to some stuff, right?”
        Sweetie thought about this for a while, rubbing her chin. “Actually,” she said, “I think I do have a story! It was A little over a year ago, Rarity had a huge order of dresses. Like, more than she'd ever had! I think Sapphire Shores was getting ready for another tour and wanted Rarity to make a bunch of her costumes. So Rarity was super busy, and I hadn't seen her for weeks! I don't think anypony had, actually. I really missed her, and I felt bad that she was so busy, so I offered to help her with some of the dresses.”
        “I didn't know you could sew,” Silver said. “Did Rarity teach you?”
        Sweetie blushed, flashing an impish grin. “I can't,” she said. “And I definitely couldn't back then. But I lied, and told her that I had been practicing and would be able to do something small. Like, you know, sew buttons on or something. I just wanted to be close to her.”
        Silver smirked. “Wow,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “And here I thought you were supposed to be sweet! That sounds like something Diamond or I would do.”
        “Well,” Sweetie said, her smile turning from impish to shy, “maybe that's why we get along so well now! But, I think she was desperate enough that she'd have been willing to accept anypony. So she set me down and gave me a dress that just needed buttons sewn on. And when she went back to her work, I watched over her shoulder for a while.” He blush deepened. “I thought, you know, if I just saw her do it once, then I'd be able to get it...”
        “No?” Silver asked.
        “No,” Sweetie giggled. “I saw her sew on a button, and I tried the first one, and, well...” She lifted a hoof, gesturing both vaguely and wildly in the way that one might attempt to pantomime a fistfight between a spider and octopus. “I, uh, managed to make a flower out of loose thread and stray stitches, though.”
        Silver laughed, but stifled it quickly. “I'm so sorry,” she said, still snickering behind her hoof. “What happened?”
        Sweetie Belle shrugged and blushed deeper still. “I called it quits!” she said. “I know when I'm just making something worse! So I called Rarity over, and I showed her the stitch, and I told her that I had lied.”
        Silver grimaced sympathetically. “Was she mad?” she asked.
        “A little,” Sweetie admitted. “But she told me it wasn't too bad, and she was happy that I at least owned up to it before I hurt too much. When I told her that I was just upset we couldn't spend more time together, she asked me if I could sit close by and sing! She told me that it helped her focus more.” She grinned, and added, “And not only that, but she made me a new dress when she was in there too. She told me she was 'inspired by my song, and just had to indulge herself'.” Once more Sweetie's smile changed, this time from shy to warm and nostalgic as she thought back on Rarity's expression that day. “It doesn't fit me anymore, but I still love it. I wore it the very next day, and like, at least once a week for months after that. I loved it so much Rarity actually had to repair it a few times because I was wearing it out.” She giggled.
        “Oh yeah, I think I remember that dress,” Silver said. “The lavender one, with the music bars in the hem, right?”
        “Uh-huh,” Sweetie said, nodding. “It wasn't like, real music, just music notes, but still.”
        Silver smirked. “Well, I doubt Rarity knew sheet music off the top of her head,” she pointed out. “Still, it was really nice of her to do that on top of everything else.”
        “Yeah,” Sweetie agreed. She smiled up at Silver, who smiled back at her. With their stories told, the pair slipped into a silence once more. It was not an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but rather a warm one, almost comforting. Nevertheless, it was a silence, and in the absence of noise lingering doubts crept back into Sweetie's mind. To stave them off a while longer she said, “Sorry... I guess that wasn't a very good story, huh?”
        “What?” Silver asked, blinking. “No, it was a good story. Why would you think it's bad?”
        “Well, we stopped talking right after,” Sweetie said, staring at her hooves. “Aren't stories supposed to give ponies something to talk about?”
        “Not always,” Silver said. She frowned for a moment, but it quickly faded to be replaced by a slight smile. “Sometimes it's nice just to learn about somepony. Besides,” she gestured upward, and Sweetie saw that they had arrived at the entrance to the back room. “You managed to get us here. So, I think it was as good a story as anypony could ask for.” She leaned in, nudging Sweetie with an elbow. “Weren't you telling me yesterday I'm the one who should believe in myself more?”
        In spite of herself Sweetie giggled, and nudged back. “Okay, okay,” she said. “Thanks. But...” she looked up at the doorway to the back room and frowned deeply. Even with Silver's warmth beside her, it was still an intimidating sight. A lingering fear crept in her belly, like a serpent awoken and uncoiling. She rubbed her stomach to settle the beast, but to no avail. “I wouldn't say no to a distraction anyways...”
        Silver followed her gaze to the archway. “Me either,” she admitted. She adjusted her glasses and rubbed her foreleg. “Would it, uh... help if I was scared, and you had to give me a pep talk again?” she asked.
        Though her fear did not subside, Sweetie giggled. “No,” she said. “Well, maybe. But I don't need to.” Her horn lit up, and her saddlebags flipped open. “You were right. We already know what we need to do, we just have to do it.” She pulled one of the nets out of her bag, and hung it up over the doorway. Then she slipped underneath and smiled through at Silver.
        Silver smiled back and stepped through the net as well. She took a moment to brush her mane and adjust her glasses, and once again Sweetie was struck by how extraordinarily calm she looked. It was more than simply calmness, though. There was an air of determination around her that Sweetie didn't recognize. It must have been true, Sweetie realized, just how used Silver was to letting other ponies make her decisions. That was gone now, though, and confidence suited her. She was a pretty mare to begin with, but seeing her stand so straight and so firm... Sweetie smiled wider and wrapped her forelegs around Silver's.
        Silver blushed furiously. “U-uh?” she asked. “Thanks?”
        “I just...” Sweetie floundered, only now realizing how out of the blue her hug must have been, “I'm glad I got to see you like this. Away from Diamond. Thanks for being my friend.”
        Silver's look of confidence faded for a moment, but it quickly returned and she hugged Sweetie back. “Hey,” she said, “There's no reason to talk about it like it's over. It's not like The Phantom is gonna get us, right? We have a plan.”
        “Right,” Sweetie said, beaming. “We're gonna catch that Phantom!”
        “That's right,” Silver said, laying a hoof on Sweetie's head. She hesitated for a moment, but brushed Sweetie's mane. “And when we do, I have a plan of my own...”
        “You do?” Sweetie asked. She peered up at Silver—careful to keep her head in a position that Silver could continue her stroking—with a puzzled expression. “What plan?”
        “You'll see,” Silver said. “You'll know what it is when I do it.”
        Sweetie Belle frowned. She squinted at Silver, trying to catch a hint of what she had planned. “I dunno,” she said slowly.
        Silver waved a hoof. “Don't worry,” she said, “I'm not gonna do anything stupid. I just want it to be a surprise.”
        Sweetie's frown did not lessen, but after a long moment's deliberation she decided to trust Silver. In truth the moment was not long at all; she had decided to trust Silver from the beginning. She simply thought that Silver could use some scrutiny. “Well…” she said, “as long as you remember our first plan.”
        Silver lifted her hoof to her chest in an exaggerated image of recitation. “I’ll hide, and you make the Phantom think you’re alone. Then when he comes out, I jump him.”
Sweetie grinned. “Okay,” she said. “I guess I’ll trust your plan, then.”
The two fillies stepped away from one another, and Sweetie peered into the gloom. She could see the faintest hint of the metal heart in the depths of the room. In the pale half-light its beating seemed all the more real, its form wobbling and throbbing with each clank and thump. A dim orange light emanated from within, a sure sign that The Phantom was home. She indicated this over her shoulder to Silver, who nodded. An unspoken ultimatum passed between them: there would be no speaking from this point on.
        They crept further into the back room, following the line of a low-hanging pipe. The air nearby it was all the more cold for it, but having something nearby calmed Sweetie's nerves. More than once she ducked under it in response to a shifting in the shadows within the heart. She and Silver moved in inching, creeping steps. Time seemed to stretch on forever in that place, and endless and hourless expanse of inky black and dewy brass. Eventually, however, they were standing mere meters away from the heart. The shadows within it were still. The figure of the Phantom slouching in a pose of concentration, or perhaps consternation. Then again, perhaps he was simply bored again. One way or another, Sweetie's course was set.
        She turned and gestured vaguely to Silver, who returned a knowing nod. Silver moved slowly, careful not to clatter or jangle as she pulled a net of her own out of her saddlebags. She unfolded it, stretching it flat against the floor, and dragged it with her under the pipe. The sound of it was deafening to Sweetie Belle, like a thousand bulls stampeding across marble floors, but The Phantom did not stir.
        When Silver was in position she flashed Sweetie a smile of confirmation. Then she smiled wider, a subtle change in expression that filled Sweetie with encouragement. Sweetie smiled back and cleared her throat.
        “Silver?” She called out. He voice was laden with concern, laced with a hint of fear and just a tinge of annoyance. As acting went, she had taken on harder roles. “Silver, where did you go? You can't—you can't leave me alone here, Silver!” She began to walk in small, slow circles, careful to stay where Silver could easily jump out from beneath the pipe.
        “Silver, I'm serious! This isn't funny anymore, what if The Phantom comes? I don't... I don't think I can catch him alone!”
        She cast a sideways glance at the brass heart, looking for a sign of The Phantom's approach. He hadn't moved at all, however, as though he hadn't heard her. She frowned and moved closer, gesturing for Silver to follow. She spoke again, raising her voice this time.
        “Silver, come out! I'm scared that The Phantom got you! I'm scared that The Phantom will get me! I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? At least say something!” Her voice was heavy with a very real fear, now. She was close enough to the heart that The Phantom must have heard her, and she drifted closer with every word. “Silver, please,” she begged, “if you're there please say something, anything! Just give me a sign that you're still alright!”
        She was right beside the heart now, and still The Phantom hadn't moved. A fear that approached panic clutched at her chest, its frozen grip forcing her heart into her throat and squeezing the air out of her lungs. “F-fine then!” she stammered, leaning close. “I... I g-guess I'll just have to capture The Phantom by myself!”
        She thrust her head into the heart, fighting back the urge to squeeze her eyes to shut. The sudden light of the candles stabbed at her eyes, but she forced them open until they watered. In the center of the worn, ancient nest was a cloaked figure, bent into a hunch as though by the weight of its own sins. It didn't stir, not even to recognize Sweetie's existence.
        Had The Phantom died?
        The thought sent a nauseous pang through Sweetie's stomach. It was all she could do to keep her hooves beneath her. For a long moment she fought back the sickly feeling. The Phantom couldn't be dead, not with the way he had been flying around and screaming just last night. It had to be some kind of trick.
        Knowing something and feeling it, however, are rarely one and the same, and as Sweetie reached out for the thick black shroud she could not help but imagine a corpse beneath it, cold and hard with blank eyes that stared but never saw. Her hoof trembled so violently that she could barely take hold of the cloth. She was too frightened to take it any longer. She pulled the cloak back sharply, whipping it off the slouching figure. She squealed with fright and snapped her eyes shut, cringing away from the figure of The Phantom. It was a full, tense minute before she realized that she had closed her eyes too fast to actually see what lay beneath. Slowly, she cracked one eye open.
        It was a pillow affixed to a stick, which had been wedged between two pipes to stand upright. The cloak had been draped over it, giving the impression of a slouching pony in the nest. Sweetie Belle breathed a sigh of relief. She almost laughed at herself, getting so worked up over nothing! The Phantom wasn't here.
        Sweetie Belle backed out of the heart and turned to Silver on the floor, who was currently busy looking as horrified as possible. “Don't worry,” Sweetie assured her. She held up the cloak. “The Phantom isn't here. It was just a trick!”
        Silver's expression eased, though not by much. A deep frown creased her face. “Then,” she said slowly, “where is The Phantom?”
        In a fraction of an instant the thought struck Sweetie like an icicle in the back, cold an unexpected. In the remainder of that second a flame exploded beside her head, inches away from her face. Fire billowed out in a savage cloud, illuminating the room. Sweetie screamed, throwing herself back.
        Another explosion burst around her hooves, then a third. Sweetie launched herself away from the blazes just in time for a fourth to erupt in front of her. This one was larger that the last, a pyre that chased away the shadows. The figure of the Phantom erupted through the gloom. Sharp shadows clung to his body against the fire, blacking out his eyes and painting him with an evil chiaroscuro grin. Sweetie screamed. The Phantom laughed.
        “Cripes!” Silver cried, scrambling out from beneath the pipe. She snatched Sweetie by the shoulders, pulling her out of the way as The Phantom lobbed another volley of fire.
        Gouts of flame erupted all around them as they ran, dodged and scurried through the back room. Sweetie Belle had long since lost track of where they were. Which direction they were facing, where the door was, she had no clue. She didn't care. The only thing she cared about was escaping the fire. The Phantom swooped overhead, laughing like a madman.
        “Sweetie,” Silver said, shaking Sweetie's shoulders, “Your net! We have to use the other net!”
        Sweetie only half-heard the words. Her eyes darted back and forth, searching for where The Phantom would attack from next. A flash of movement caught her eye and she shoved Silver away, dodging backwards. A pillar of flame spiked up where they had been standing, stretching high and illuminating the howling form of The Phantom as he sailed overhead
        Silver's words finally struck Sweetie, and she flung down her saddle bag. She pressed herself against the floor and dug out the net. Explosions burst all around her, and she fought down the instinct to flee. When the net was finally free she flung it open and clutched at the fringes. She was too frightened to focus on her magic, and The Phantom was coming back for another pass.
        Silver was shouting at Sweetie, but Sweetie tuned her out. There was no time to listen. There was no time for magic. There was no time to think. The Phantom shrieked and cackled. He held his hooves high as he turned to face Sweetie. He barreled down on her, flying faster and faster, still grinning that horrible grin. When Sweetie could see the gleam of his teeth she hurled the net with all her might.
        It flew straight and true, edges flared out and spinning from the weight of its bolts. Sweetie's heart soared along with the net. In her mind's eye she could see The Phantom caught and brought to justice, and the theater saved.
        An explosion erupted near the net, sending it curling and careening off-course. Another explosion twisted it further, and then another, until it was nothing but a snarled mess of string and steel that passed harmlessly beneath The Phantom. It hit the floor with a thud that shot Sweetie through the heart and skidded into the darkness.
        The Phantom swooped down, grabbing Sweetie by the shoulders and hurling her. She landed on her back meters away, knocking the wind out of her. She cried out in pain and shock, but The Phantom wasn't finished. As she struggled to right herself he cast another explosion to her left, throwing her off balance. She scrambled to the right and another blaze erupted mere centimeters away from her side. She curled into a ball, trying to avoid the fireballs as best she could but they kept coming, inching closer and closer to her with each pass of The Phantom. She trembled violently, trying desperately to think of a way to escape, a way to recover this. She had nothing. There was nothing but fear, fear and panic. The Phantom was winning. They were going to die, and the theater would burn, and Rarity would be killed as well. She covered her head with her hooves, tears stinging at her eyes, and sobbed weakly.
        “Dammit Diamond, that's enough!”
        Diamond?
        Sweetie opened a teary eye and looked up. It was Silver. She stood over top of Sweetie, shielding the smaller filly from the fire. Fires and explosions blazed all around her, illuminating an expression of intense, divine fury. Her mouth curled up into a snarl like nothing Sweetie had ever seen on any creature, much less a pony. “You're taking this too far!” she shouted.
        Whatever Silver's intentions, The Phantom paid no heed. He continued to circle the fillies, still pelting them with fireballs and laughing maniacally. Silver held her ground, however, not even bothering to look at him as he swung behind her. She stared resolutely ahead, and screamed out again. “I'm not joking, Diamond! We never agreed on this, and it's too much! So cut it out, and get down here now!”
        Her words carried such weight, such conviction, that Sweetie very nearly attempted to comply, to sink further into the ground. Indeed, against all odds The Phantom slowed, and descended. He landed in front of Silver. A sneer that was both disgusted and disgusting marred his face, so wide it almost disappeared beneath his mask. “Gods, Silver,” he said. “You really know to ruin a joke.”
        “A joke?” Silver demanded with a stomp of her hoof. “You think throwing fire around is a joke? What's the matter with you? What if you had hit one of us!?” She clenched her teeth and gripped at her mane. “What were you thinking, Diamond? We could have been hurt, or worse! For that matter, what if you had actually started a fire? The whole theater could have burned down!”
        The Phantom rolled his eyes. “Ugh, relax, Silver,” he said. He reached into his cloak and produced a small green-and-orange bobble. “It's just flashfire, it can't burn anything. It's not even hot, see?” He smashed the bobble between his hooves and an enormous flame erupted, engulfing his legs and face. The fire quickly subsided however, revealing The Phantom to be completely unharmed. “I picked up a bunch of them from a fireworks stall downtown last night.”
        “And you didn't think it would be good to tell me that?” Silver asked. She gestured back to the brass heart and her discarded net, still lit by a few lingering flames. “You know, warn me first so I didn't freak out and assume you'd gone crazy!?”
        “Yeah, well, maybe I would have,” The Phantom said, jabbing a hoof into Silver's chest, “if you had bothered to actually show up and talk to me yesterday, like you were supposed to. What was I supposed to do? You obviously weren't doing a good job of making sure I wasn't caught!”
        “That wasn't supposed to be my job,” Silver said. She took a step closer to The Phantom, who up close was surprisingly small. He and Silver were nearly equal in height. In fact, Silver may have been slightly taller. They stood nearly nose-to-nose as Silver shouted, “I was just supposed to get back here, I assumed you could figure out a way to avoid getting pulled down like an idiot without having to traumatize Sweetie!” She blinked, and her expression turned from one of anger to one of fear. Her head snapped back to Sweetie, as though she had only just remembered the filly was underneath her. “Sweetie!” she said. She leaned down and offered Sweetie a hoof. “Are you alright?”
        Sweetie blinked. She had been taking the argument in dumbly, unable to process it. Diamond? Sweetie sat up without Silver's hoof. She looked between Silver and The Phantom. “Silver...” she asked. Her voice was soft. It had to fight its way through her tight-clenched throat. “Do you... know The Phantom? What's going on?”
        Silver winced hard enough that even Sweetie could see it. “I...”
        “Of course she knows me, you dork,” The Phantom said. “You don't seriously still believe there's a real Phantom, do you? Gods, I know you're dumb but I still only thought you'd be fooled for like, two days tops. Especially after yesterday.” The Phantom pulled off his mask, revealing the face of Diamond Tiara, no less horrific, beneath. When she spoke again her voice had returned to normal as well. “Boo, loser.”
        “Diamond!” Silver snapped.
        “Oh, what?” Diamond asked, sneering at Silver. “Don't act like you're all high and mighty, it's not like you weren't involved. Oh no, we scared the baby.” She waved her hooves mockingly. “Big whoop. It was funny, until you ruined it.”
        “Wh...” Sweetie said weakly. She stared up at Silver. Silver couldn't meet her gaze, adjusting her glasses and hiding behind them. “Is that true?” Sweetie asked. “Was this really all just...” She fought to say the words aloud, “a prank on me?”
        “Y...yeah,” Silver admitted. “But—“
        “The plan was great,” Diamond cut Silver off. “She just had to drag you back here every day, then I would scare the crud out of you, and we'd both laugh about it later! The perfect way to spend a weekend.” She threw up her hooves and snorted.
        “Diamond, shut up!” Silver barked over her shoulder. She turned back to Sweetie. “Sweetie,” she said, “I'm... Sweetie, I'm so sorry. It started that way. That was the reason I tried to make friends, but I promise, that isn't it. I don't still feel that way.”
        “Then how do you feel?” Sweetie demanded. She pulled herself to her hooves and searched Silver's face. Sweetie's stomach ached, twisting itself in tight knots and tangling her guts. “Silver, I don't understand. What about... what about everything you told me? Were you really just leading me on?”
        “No!” Silver insisted. She stepped towards Sweetie. Sweetie stepped back. “I was going to tell you, I promise. Once we caught The... once we caught Diamond today, before we took off her mask I was going to tell you!”
        Sweetie couldn't explain why, but those words drove a sharp pain through her heart. It felt like someone had torn it out of her and filled the hole with ice. Coldness stretched across her back and filled her body. Her bones ached. Her mouth went dry. “Y-you,” she stammered, “you think that makes it okay!?”
        Silver winced again, looking like she had been whipped. Good. Sweetie was glad that Silver was hurt. She wanted Silver to feel like she did. “You were only going to tell me after? What's the matter with you!?” She stepped forward now, drawing herself up to shout in Silver's face. “Why? Why not sooner? You could have told me any time, Silver! Why didn't you tell me on the first night, or yesterday... you could have told me before we walked through that door!” Tears stung her eyes, and her throat was hoarse, but she screamed anyways. “Was it just a game to you? Just... just a joke? Do you have any idea how scared I was? I thought we were gonna die!”
        “No that isn't ! I... I was scared,” Silver said. “I thought that if I told you, then you'd...” she clung to her forelegs weakly. “I do care about you, so much more than I thought, and I was afraid to push you away...”
        Silver's words hung in the air like sullen, threatening storm clouds. “I would have forgiven you,” Sweetie said; a roll of thunder. “Why couldn't you see that? Wasn't everything that happened this weekend enough to show you how much I cared about you? Or did you just not care about me? How am I supposed to believe you?”
        “No, Sweetie,” Silver said, nearly a whimper. She reached out, but Sweetie slapped her hoof away.
        Tears streamed down Sweetie's face like rain. “Shut up,” she said. “I don't want to hear it anymore. I don't want to hear you anymore.” She swallowed hard. “I met a pony this weekend,” she said. Her voice was cracked and weak, and she could barely speak, but she forced out the words. “I met a pony who I thought was good. A pony who had... made bad decisions, and who had made mistakes, but was good in her heart.” She clutched at her chest, fighting to keep from breaking down. “She was sweet, and caring, and didn't make fun of me when I did something stupid. She was beautiful and graceful, and even though she didn't feel good about herself I knew she was so amazing... that she could be so good if she would only just try, for once. And I had so much fun being with her, and dancing with her, and listening to her talk, and I... but she wasn't real.” She blinked away the tears, but they kept coming until she could hardly see. “I wanted to like you so badly, Silver,” she said. “I wanted us to be friends, or... or... I wanted you to be nice. I don't know why I bothered. Diamond is right, I am stupid. Stupid to think you'd ever change. I thought you'd start being nice two years ago, when we got our cutie marks, but you didn't. You acted like it for a while, but you just went back to being jerks. I thought you cared about me... I thought you liked me, but all you care about is yourself and your... stupid games!” She grit her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, and she screamed. “You're selfish, and you're mean, and I should never have expected anything different from you!”
        She stepped back and turned away from Silver. Through blurry eyes she saw the light of the exit. “I hate you, Silver.” She said. Then she left.
        Over her shoulder she heard Silver cry out to her, begging to her to wait, to come back, but she didn't. Sweetie tuned out her voice. She couldn’t hear Silver right now, not when every word, every memory, tore at her heart all the more. It was all she could do to walk. She wanted to collapse, and sleep forever. She wanted to cry until she drowned the world. She wanted to take out her heart and hide it away so it would stop hurting her. She wanted her sister. She wanted everpony to leave her alone. She wanted to be lied to again.
        Silver Spoon and Sweetie Belle returned to the theater through separate doors, and sat on opposite sides of the auditorium. The fashion show went perfectly.