“Despair is a narcotic. It lulls the mind into indifference.”
- Charlie Chaplin
The fifth memory revealed Silent Cry riding in the back of a wagon being carried by some unknown young buck. The sun was shining down, through the ground around them was still mostly dirt and dead grass. Apparently, not too much time had passed since the last memory for a change.
There were two others riding with her: a griffon with an assault rifle held in her claws, and a familiar rainbow-maned ghost who Silent was apparently in the middle of a conversation with.
“... gone. After two hundred years swearing up and down that he would never find peace, the old coot finally went to sleep,” finished Rainbow Dash.
Silent Cry chuckled.
“My, these are interesting times indeed. The sun is shining, the war is over, and fools even older than my dusty bones are eating their own words. Oh, to think I lived long enough to see it all for myself. I truly am a blessed soul,” she said.
The griffon groaned.
“Oh, don’t give me that, you buzzard. I’m a old mare. I’m allowed to crack a joke at my own expense now and again,” chided Silent Cry.
“Look lady, if it wasn't for the caps I’d say we should be dropping you off at a doctor’s instead of some shack in the middle of nowhere. I can think of a million things I’d rather do than escort a crazy old lady who talks to her imaginary friends, but easy caps are easy caps,” said the griffon.
Silent Cry rolled her eyes but didn’t respond.
“I still can’t believe it’s over. The Enclave is finished, everypony’s come together, and there are fewer ghosts around then there’s been in centuries. Pinkie was right. You were right,” said Rainbow.
“Oh no. I was just a silly young mare trying to cheer you up. It was simply a lucky coincidence, really. How are the others, by the way? I haven’t heard from them since the sun started shining down,” said Silent Cry.
“They're doing well. Pinkie Pie still hasn’t stopped singing and dancing in joy. Rarity’s still stuck in her statues, but she thinks she’s found a way to free herself when she’s ready. Nopony knows where Applejack is, but I heard she was last seen walking with her special somepony, so they’re probably still working things out. Twilight’s still a nervous wreck, but I think she’s finally starting to come around. Hopefully she’ll be ready to talk with you soon,” said Rainbow.
“I’m glad to hear that. Now then, would you care to tell me why you asked me to get off my rocking chair and travel out here? I’m getting a little too frail for house calls anymore, you know,” said Silent Cry.
Rainbow sighed.
“Yeah, well most ghosts don’t mind having to make their way over to you. The problem is that this pony’s kind of unwilling to move,” said Rainbow.
“Unwilling to move, or unwilling to do anything at all?” asked Silent Cry.
Rainbow Dash sighed again.
“The latter. See, she’s been staring into space refusing to move ever since she died. Her friends tried to get her to move, but nothing worked. I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t even blink. We finally figured that if the sun came back and the Enclave was destroyed we might be able to get a response out of her, but still nothing. At this point, we’re desperate enough to ask you to come all the way out here to see her,” explained Rainbow.
“I see. Well, I’ll give it my best shot, but it sounds like this pony is trying her hardest to avoid being healed. I can’t do much if she refuses to talk with me,” said Silent Cry.
The wagon stopped a moment later, parking next to a small shack.
“Thank you, kind sir. This shouldn’t take too long,” said Silent Cry as she very carefully made her way off the wagon,
“No problem, Granny Cry. We’re nowhere near anything dangerous. We’ll stick around as long as you need us to,” reassured the buck.
“I’ll be right here if you need me for anything,” called Rainbow Dash.
Silent Cry nodded and slowly made her way inside.
There were two ghosts in the building. Silent Cry recognized them and smiled.
“Ah. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. A pleasure to see you again,” said Silent Cry.
“Hello, Silent. Glad you could make it,” said Sweetie Belle.
“Yeah. Sorry we didn't ask ya to speak with her sooner, but we figured it’d take a lot more than a talk to snap her out of it, and we didn’t want to make ya come all this way for nothing,” admitted Apple Bloom.
“It’s alright. Nothing wrong with going outside and getting more sunlight. How about you two? Have you finished your investigation yet?” asked Silent Cry.
Apple Bloom shook her head.
“Nah, we’re callin’ it quits. Whoever messed with the Stables is long dead and rottin’ in Tartarus. Ah just wish we found out why he or she did it. The point of the experiments was to find a way to save ponies, not kill them. Why in Equestria would anyone want to run an experiment to see what happens when you expose ponies to large amounts of radiation? All ya had to do was look at a camera pointed toward the outside for that,” she said with a huff.
“I still think it was either a zebra spy, or somepony just somehow eavesdropped what Scootaloo was planning and misheard it. They probably thought we really were turning ponies into guinea pigs,” said Sweetie Belle with a shake of her head.
“Ah’m still mad about it. So many ponies think the three of us were monsters. They don’t know that the experiments were supposed to be shut down the moment it was clear they were doin’ more harm than good. And half the time the Stable’s failure had nothin’ to do with the experiment! Yeah, we messed up, but we were tryin’ to makes things right, just like everypony else,” grumbled Apple Bloom.
“That’s enough of that, miss Apple Bloom. We’ve already had this conversation about where your guilt truly lies,” chided Silent Cry.
Apple Bloom sighed.
“Ah know. Our biggest mistake wasn’t makin’ the Stables. It was givin’ up. Not just in the war and our sisters, but in ponies in general. We forgot that just because a bunch of good ponies made some bad decisions doesn’t mean ponies can’t make good ones as well. We shouldn’t have lost faith. We shouldn’t have run any experiments, even if we tried to add safeguards,” admitted Apple Bloom.
“But even with that, the Stables were ultimately a good idea. For every Stable that failed, there was one that didn’t. We’re the reason so many ponies are alive today. We could have saved more, yes, but we did save a lot. And we should remember that when we think about how much suffering we unintentionally caused,” recited Sweetie Belle.
“Precisely. But I didn’t come all the way out here to talk with you two again, I believe,” said Silent Cry.
“Yeah, this isn’t about us. It’s about Scootaloo. We mentioned how badly she took everythin’, but we didn’t mention just how bad. When she died, she kind of just locked up, seein’ things that only she could see. By the time Sweetie Belle joined us, it was clear that it wasn’t goin’ to be easy to snap her out of it. We’ve tried everythin’ we could think of over the last two centuries, but nothin’ worked,” explained Apple Bloom.
“The war broke her, you know. More so than me and Apple Bloom. I think being branded a traitor was just the straw that finished what was left of her mind. She was always so stubborn. She always insisted on shouldering all the blame if things went wrong. We think that she’s convinced herself that she should be down in Tartarus, and is trying to torture herself in her own mind,” added Sweetie Belle.
“Havin' to read the assignment details to all the Stables herself probably didn’t help either. Especially Stable 1. Neither of us knew she was plannin’ on sealin’ it shut until we poked in ourselves and saw what was happenin’. Though we think that she was bettin’ on the scum bags closin’ the Stable before anypony who wasn’t part of their little circle got inside. Ah mean, mah Stables were built tough, but they ain’t strong enough to keep one of the Princesses from just wearin’ down the door over a few hundred years if they were trapped inside,” said Apple Bloom.
“And to be fair, it probably wasn’t that bad a decision. Turns out they had been stashing drugs and alcohol inside the Stable the moment it was finished. Do you know what they did when the Stable closed? They threw a party, and didn’t stop drinking, overdosing, and goodness knows what else until they dropped dead. It wasn’t even clear if any of them heard the announcement that their descendants were doomed. They were easily the worst kind of ponies, and I’m honestly kind of glad they never had any kids,” said Sweetie Belle.
Silent Cry shook her head in disgust.
“Yeah, the last thing Equestria needed was a unicorn version of the Enclave. Doesn’t change the fact that she gambled with the lives of innocent ponies who might have ended up trapped with ‘em though. Ah don’t know if it can be called justified, but then again Ah also don’t know who or what judges us mortal souls. So yeah, after all that, Scootaloo’s really messed up right now. Do ya think ya can help her?” asked Apple Bloom.
“Well, I can certainly try. Is she through that door?” asked Silent Cry.
The ghosts nodded, and Silent Cry slowly made her way to the other room.
Sure enough, the ghost of Scootaloo was sitting on the floor, staring into space, seeing who knew what.
Silent Cry didn’t say anything right away. She made her way over and gently sat herself down next to Scootaloo.
They sat together in silence for awhile.
“Lovely weather today, isn’t it?” asked Silent Cry.
Scootaloo didn’t respond.
“The sun’s even more beautiful than I imagined. To think ponies once took something so amazing for granted is hard for an old bag of bones like me to imagine. And they’ll do it again soon. A single generation will pass, and nopony will remember a world covered in clouds,” said Silent Cry.
Scootaloo didn’t respond.
“Yep. Things are looking so much better now. The world is finally starting to heal. And if those rumors I’ve been hearing are true, it might end up green again very soon. Makes one feel nostalgic, doesn’t it?” asked Silent Cry.
Scootaloo didn’t respond.
“Times like these I like to think back about the life I lived; the many things I’ve seen and done. The friends I made and miss. And for all that, the thing I like to think about the most is the story of how I got my cutie mark. Care to hear it?” asked Silent Cry.
Scootaloo didn’t respond.
“I was born part of a traveling caravan. My father was a trader, and my mother was a drifter who fell for him and hung up her adventure boots to stay with him. It was a happy childhood. I had loving parents, got to see plenty of new sights, and our caravan was big enough that few raiders ever dared to attack us. Though as it goes without saying, childhoods don’t last long in the Wasteland.”
“Mine ended a little after my fourth birthday. I started to realize that there was something off about my mom. She never talked to anypony but me, not even my dad. She never picked me up and played games with me like some of the other mothers in our caravan. And she was always glowing in a way that nopony else did. Not even those ghouls she always told me to stay away from.”
“When I finally asked my mom why she was glowing, she reluctantly told me why. The truth was that my mother had died in childbirth. I was the only one who could see her because I was born with the power to see the dead. As you can imagine, nopony was happy when I realized this and started claiming I could talk to ghosts. Most just dismissed it as a little filly playing pretend. Others thought it was a sign I’d been born stupid.”
“Course, the few who thought it was cute started thinking otherwise when I refused to stop talking about it. They kept telling me to stop bothering them with my silly games. Especially my father. He didn’t like being reminded about the love he’d lost. After a few years it got to the point where he yelled at me and demanded I never pretend to talk with my dead mother again. I didn’t listen, and ended up getting beaten for it.”
“My mother was heart broken. She didn’t want to see her husband attack his own child. Mind you, it wasn’t much worse than a spanking, and I probably did deserve some form of discipline, but it still left her crying. I waited until I was alone, and then tried to comfort her. And that’s when I got my cutie mark: a halo over a tombstone. Because my talent matched my special skill: I was a natural at putting ponies at ease, dead or alive.”
“This didn’t make things better, though. It was a tradition in the caravan for ponies to start an apprenticeship under whoever practiced something similar to your talent when you got your mark. It wasn’t so obvious with me. Some ponies thought mine was a symbol that I was going to be an undertaker. Others thought it was a sign I’d grow up to be a dangerous killer. When rumors started spreading that I wanted to have more ‘ghosts’ to talk to, well, you can guess which idea most pony eventually believed in.”
“I became a popular target for bullies. My dad wasn’t one of them, but he saw the storm brewing, and asked me to leave the caravan for my own safety. The next town we stopped at, I was left behind. I ended up as an assistant to a local doctor. He never really took the time to teach me the trade, though I did pick up a few things over the years. I also grew quite fond of a certain Ministry Mare after working with her tools for so long.”
“I never focused on my ability to see ghosts. They came and went, like living ponies, but they never did any business with me or my boss, so I didn’t give them much thought. It wasn’t until my dad died years later in an accident that I started acting on my cutie mark. When his ghost came to apologize for leaving me, I just couldn’t bring myself to turn him away. And so we talked. He found his peace, and left me wondering what to make of it.”
“Was this power something I really wanted to use? Could I even do anything with it? I decided to pack up my things and head out for a long walk to clear my head. I ran into a certain rainbow maned pony on the way, and from there I became the ghost whisperer.”
“I spent the rest of my life helping the souls of the dead find peace. Some were easy, and only needed somepony to talk to. Other were harder, and took years of discussions to send them on their way. Some I had to go on small adventures to take care of some final request or something like that. And then there were the ones who just couldn’t rest until they knew the world they lived on would be alright in the end. I couldn’t do a thing for them, but the Stable Dweller did.”
It’s funny, really. That single pony unknowingly turned my life’s work from an unending task to one that I might actually be able to finish now. So many souls have gone to sleep because of her. Not that anypony will know about it. Most ponies don’t believe I can talk to ghosts. Hay, I’m still not certain if I can. Nopony will mention me in the history books, but that’s fine. Not every good pony gets to be famous.”
“Ah, listen to me ramble. I was just supposed to talk about my cutie mark. Guess my mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be. Course, it’ll be a miracle if I live for another decade, so I’ll take my mostly intact mind, thank you very much. What about you, dear? Do you remember how you got your cutie mark?” asked Silent Cry.
Scootaloo didn’t respond.
“Talents are funny things. Just because you have them doesn’t mean you’ll put them to use, let alone do something good with them. Lots of pony go through their lives and never amount to much. They were just background ponies compared to all the big and famous figures who went on to make history. The Princesses, the Ministry Mares, the Lightbringer and her friends, and even those Stable Tec fillies did so much more than the rest of us little ponies,” said Silent Cry.
Scootaloo didn’t respond, but it almost looked like she twitched out of the corner of Silent Cry’s eye.
“Yep. Big and important ponies they were. But they weren’t gods, either. They made some mistakes too. The Princesses led us to war, the Ministry Mares took things too far, The Stable Tec fillies got a lot of ponies killed, and the Lightbringer once slayed an entire village of ponies in front of their kids. I’ll never understand why ponies insist on putting others on such pedestals. Makes you forget that they were just normal pony who decided to do more than just sit around and watch the days go by.’
“Cause ponies like them, they couldn’t just sit around. They couldn’t accept that the world had be full of bad things. They knew they couldn’t get rid of all of them, but they could do something about a few. They just didn’t know how to do it. They tried some ideas, some worked and others didn't, but they kept trying. Never once considering giving up as long as there was a chance that they could makes things better in some small way.”
“And that’s what made them great ponies. It easy to want to world to change. It’s not so easy to get up and make it change. Few ponies are willing to try, and even fewer succeed. But those ponies I just mentioned? They did some good. They did some bad too, but also good. And if they were willing to actually try when so many other didn't, how can anyone say that they don’t deserve some respect?”
“And if a pony deserves your respect, then that mean that they also deserve your forgiveness. I don’t know what lies beyond, or what system’s in place that decides who gets to go to paradise and who suffers, but I do know one thing: there’s always room for more forgiveness in the world,” finished Silent Cry.
Scootaloo didn’t answer.
Silent Cry waited.
But then, there was a small sound, too quiet to make out.
Silent Cry waited some more.
“I’m sorry...” came a whisper so soft it was almost impossible to notice.
Silent still waited.
“I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I’m sorry...” said the soft whisper over and over again.
Silent Cry turned toward Scootaloo. She still was staring into space with unseeing eyes, but her mouth was moving.
“I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”
Silent Cry reached over and gently hugged the pegasus.
“And I forgive you,” she said.
Scootaloo started to cry.
“I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”
The memory faded.