//------------------------------// // Conversations about death // Story: The House Remembered // by Waxworks //------------------------------// Tikbalang screamed. It was loud, and horrible, and it shattered the windows and broke the mirror, sending cracks through the glass in front of her, pieces of it dropping to the floor. Her wail echoed out across the landscape, filtering through the trees. She continued screaming in anguish and fear. She wailed all through the day. She didn’t stop until she heard the front door opening and a voice called out to her. “Tikbalang? What has happened?” Plum Pudding asked. Tikbalang came out of her room, the door creaking as she stumbled out to stand at the top of the stairs. Plum Pudding saw her and recoiled, his hind hooves stumbling out of the door. “I’m dead! I’ve been dead! For years! Did you know? Have you known?” Tikbalang yelled. Plum Pudding looked up at the angry visage above him. Her sunken eyes bored into his, and he cringed at her words. He looked terrified, but he appeared to hear her, as every question made him wince. “Tikbalang, I, uh, I can hear you, finally. And yes. I assumed you were. I thought you knew,” he said. “Thought I knew? Did you think I chose to be dead, then just hung about in my decaying house for Celestia knows how long?” Tikbalang shouted. “I thought you were a restless spirit, like the tales talk about. A spirit who was confused because the pony died of unfortunate causes. A disease, or something,” he said. “That would explain your room and why it was so immaculate. When you passed, they were afraid of the contagion spreading because they didn’t know.” Tikbalang’s anger died down somewhat, the wind blown out of her sails. She died of… something, and her things were left behind. Her family abandoned the house to its fate, and her body to… wherever. “Where is my body?” “Tikbalang?” “My body. My corpse. My bones. Anything! Where was I laid to rest?” Plum Pudding shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t found it anywhere in the house, and it isn’t in your room. I don’t think they’d have dumped it down the well, but that’s possible. I can’t check until spring, though. It’s frozen right now and buried under snow.” “You’re… you’re right. I’m sorry. It can wait. It’s not like I’m ‘dying’ or anything.” Tikbalang gave a rueful chuckle. Plum Pudding started to laugh, but coughed to cover it up. “I am sorry Tikbalang. I did not intentionally leave you in the dark about your condition. My son doesn’t know you’re dead, and you didn’t hurt him, so I didn’t worry about it. To me you were a benevolent spirit, not a confused ghost.” “Your son… he has been the highlight of my dead life from what I can remember of it. My memory has been coming back in these past few years, and it has been… rough,” Tikbalang said. “I don’t know what to make of it, and I don’t know what to do with myself, either. What does a ghost do? What goals do I make? What do I even have to look forward to?” “I cannot speak for you, but I think we should take it one step at a time. ‘Looking too far forward makes a pony miss what’s under their hooves’ as my Dad always said,” Plum Pudding said. “I’ll fix your windows, and then in spring we can investigate the well. Maybe we’ll find your body, maybe we won’t, but until we’ve reached that point, you should just relax as best you’re able. You’ve lasted this long haven’t you?” “I have. You’re right again. I will wait. Thank you for coming to check on me,” Tikbalang said. “Well… the rest of the townsfolk hear the scream too, and it sounded ominous. The only thing out in this direction that I knew might make a sound like that would be you, so I left my son with my family and came out as soon as I could,” Plum Pudding said. “Well I thank you,” Tikbalang said. The two were quiet for a little bit until Tikbalang broke the silence. “Have I always looked like… this?” Tikbalang motioned to herself, bony, emaciated, with dark sunken eyes, wispy hair and covered in rags. Plum Pudding nodded. “It’s what I saw in the mirror years ago. I was scared, but you helped me find my sister, so I knew you weren’t actively malicious, and when given incentive, could even be beneficial. Glory Seed doesn’t know ponies aren’t supposed to look like bones and be missing their eyes. To him you’re normal, and just a different shape. Like a Pegasus or unicorn,” Plum said. “Well, I am a unicorn,” Tikbalang said. “Oh! Speaking of which, I can use magic again! I was keeping my room protected with all my magic, and I just wasn’t aware of it, like so many things in my un-life.” “Oh? That’s great! Can you”—he motioned to the shattered glass—“fix the broken windows, maybe? Glass is expensive.” “Oh! Maybe. I’ll try.” Tikbalang looked at the nearest broken window, and all the glass laying on the floor. She lit up her horn and picked them up, turning them this way and that, and clinking a few pieces together. She shook her head and had to give up. “I don’t know how to do that. I’ll try to figure it out during winter. I have time,” she said. “I’ll come back with some covers for the windows so the snow doesn’t come in. I can probably make the trip tomorrow,” Plum said. “Will you… will you bring your son? I would like to talk with him, now that you can hear me,” Tikbalang said. “I can do that, yes,” Plum said. “Will you be fine until then?” She nodded. “I have it out of my system. I just need to get used to it emotionally. I’m not used to having emotions. I kind of just… existed, before now,” “I cannot even begin to imagine that. We can talk more tomorrow, Tikbalang, I must get home before night falls and the winds get colder,” Plum said. “Of course. Thank you again for coming, Plum,” Tikbalang said. “You’re welcome, Tikbalang,” he said. Plum stepped out the door, and trotted into the snow, crawling through the drifts into the forest. Tikbalang shut the door and looked back at her poor house. She had shattered every pane of glass in the entire place with her unholy scream, undoing a good portion of Plum’s hard work. He had put his heart and soul into fixing the place, and now the snow was falling in the open windows. She felt awful. Feeling awful was better than feeling nothing, she supposed. She had been barely more than an animal before, and now she was remorseful, sad, angry, and a little bit happy that she had somepony she could count on to check on her. It’s not like she even needed it. It’s not like she could die again. How would anypony even manage that? She chuckled at the thought. Tikbalang looked at the windows, and thought about the spell she had used to protect her room from the elements. She could manage a spell like that for each window in the house. Much less than an entire six sides of a room, and she would be able to end it once Plum brought covers for them tomorrow. Tikbalang lit her horn and concentrated on the windows in the house. She knew the house like the rear of her hoof, so she knew where, and how many windows there were. She remembered the spell for her room not as she had cast it, but as she had removed it, and placed that spell on the windows, making them impervious to the elements. She went through the house once to check all of them, and clean up a bit of the snow that had fallen in. She didn’t feel it was fair to leave all the work to Plum. He’d already done so much for her, and she had created this mess herself. Once the windows were sealed and the floors cleaned of snow and glass, Tikbalang went back up to her room to clean up the glass of her mirror. She kept all the glass safe, even pulling in the bits that had fallen outside, just in case she could manage to use magic to fix them. She picked up the mirror shards and placed them in a drawer of her vanity. She looked at herself in the mirror one more time. She tried to smile, but it lacked some of the effect it should have without proper lips. She shouldn’t be able to speak normally without them, but then, she didn’t have lungs. Or vocal cords. Or a tongue. Or anything, really. Tikbalang shook her head and left. Staying in her room wasn’t doing her any good, and she needed to survive another day, then the entire winter. Tikbalang stepped outside, making sure to close the door behind her, and trod along the upper crust of the snow. She followed Plum’s hoofprints to the bottom of the hill where they disappeared into the forest. She sat down on top of the snow and waited. She was aware of the passing time, but she tried her best not to think, and just waited. Morning came, and it was blustery and stormy by the time the sun rose. The snow was coming down thick, and it was blinding. Tikbalang was worried, though. If the snow was this thick, it might be dangerous for Plum and Glory to come visit, and that might mean they wouldn’t visit at all! She didn’t know what to do. She could go to the town herself, but she hadn’t been able to enter the last time, and she didn’t know where in town Plum lived anyway. She wasn’t even certain of the path through the forest Plum took to get to her house, so she might miss them on the road. Stuck on what she should do, Tikbalang stayed put and waited. Snow piled up around her, but she was rewarded when she saw a pony plowing through the snow, pulling behind him a sled with a bunch of sacks on it, topped by a colt. Tikbalang stood up and went out to meet them. When Glory saw her approach, he stood up and jumped off the sled. “Catch meee!” he yelled. Tikbalang was startled, and reached out with her hooves, catching the bundled-up colt in her forehooves. The impact knocked her onto her flank, and she sat there on top of the snow, holding the foal. “Hello Glory,” Tikbalang said. Glory Seed looked up at her in surprise, eyes wide. “Daddy! Mummy’s talking!” Now it was Tikbalang’s turn to be surprised. She looked in shock at Glory, then looked at Plum, who gave her a shrug and a rueful smile. She didn’t know how to respond to that at all. She put Glory on her back and followed Plum in silence up the hill to her house. Once he had brought everything inside, she set Glory down. “I need to speak with your father, Glory. Do you mind playing for a moment while we talk?” Tikbalang said. “Okay!” Glory waddled off, wrapped up in his winter clothes. Once Glory was out of sight, Tikbalang spun around and looked at Plum Pudding with a confused expression. “Why does he call me his ‘mummy’, and why are you okay with it?” Plum Pudding just shrugged again. “He’s been doing that for a while now, I thought he’d have said it to you by now. Has he not?” “No, he’s never called me his mother before. You don’t mind?” “Not… really,” Plum sighed. “I mean, I miss my wife, of course, but Glory never knew her. She died in childbirth, and all he’s known is my sisters and my mother. You’re really the only mare besides them that he knows, so to him, you must be his mother since we see you every week.” Tikbalang looked at Plum for a moment, then looked away, staring at nothing. “You know I didn’t kill her, right? I don’t have the ability to do that.” Plum nodded. “I have figured that out in the years since, yes. I’m sorry if my blaming you caused you any grief.” “No, I understand why you said what you said now. It’s been a while since I had proper emotions, but I understand,” Tikbalang said. There was silence for a moment, until Plum broke it with a sigh. “I suppose I should get to work. We can’t be out all day in this weather. I wouldn’t have come, but I promised, and breaking promises to you seems to be bad for my well-being.” “Oh psssh! It’s just random chance. I don’t have it out for you.” Tikbalang waved a hoof in dismissal. “I would rather not risk it. Your house will be fixed, and I came out to ensure that it doesn’t fill with snow over winter,” Plum said. “Well thank you. I’ll go find Glory and watch him while you do that,” Tikbalang said. Tikbalang found Glory upstairs in her room, where she had left the door open. He had not been in here before as she always kept the door shut, and over summer they usually played outside. He had climbed inside her wardrobe and was thumping about among her clothes. He hadn’t yet noticed her, and Tikbalang had a thought. Ghosts were usually assumed to be able to walk through walls and the like, yet she had never attempted to do so. She had thought she was alive, but something ‘else’ than a regular pony, but now that she knew she was a ghost, could she do that? Her hoofsteps were silent as she sneaked around to the side of the wardrobe and pressed her snout up against it. It felt solid, but she concentrated on going through it, thinking of herself as being ephemeral and, well, a ghost. She was rewarded a moment later when she felt herself get lighter, and her nose passed into the wood, and out into the wardrobe, Where Glory was trying on her shoes. “Boo!” she said as her face appeared inside. Glory jumped and squealed in delight as he saw it was Tikbalang. “Hi Mummy! How is your head in the wall?” “I can do that because I’m a ghost,” Tikbalang said. “Can I do that? Am I a ghost?” Glory Seed asked. “No, you’re definitely not a ghost. You’re a lively little colt who’s messing with my things,” Tikbalang said. “Oh… is that bad?” Glory Seed asked. Tikbalang pulled herself the rest of the way through the wall of the wardrobe and made herself solid, then she crowded up next to glory. “No, it isn’t. I can’t wear them anymore anyway.” “Why not?” Glory Seed asked. “Because I’m dead.” “So?” Tikbalang opened her mouth to respond, but then realized that he had a point. She could touch everything in her house, and interact with it all like she could when alive. Why couldn’t she dress up? “You’re a clever little colt, aren’t you?” Tikbalang said. “I’ll try something on then. Pick something for me.” Glory looked around at the outfits hanging above his head. He couldn’t see any of them very well, but the colours were there, even in the muted light of her snow-locked home. Glory pointed at one that was yellow and green. A summer dress, by the look of it. She almost declined when she realized she didn’t have to worry, because she was a ghost, and she didn’t get cold. “That one!” Glory said. “Well… alright. Let’s pull it out and get out of the wardrobe so I can try it on,” Tikbalang said. She let go of the spell on the house now that Plum Pudding was fixing all the windows, and lifted the dress off its hook. She stepped out of the wardrobe light as a feather and walked over to the broken mirror. She took the dress off the hanger and held it up in front of herself, then turned to the side and held it up there as well. It would look odd, hanging from her bones, but Glory wanted to play dress-up, so she would do it. “Turn around and look the other way while I put it on, Glory,” Tikbalang said. “Why?” Glory asked. “It’s polite for a colt to not look at a filly when she’s changing,” she said. “Why?” He asked again. “It is a way for the colt to silently say he respects her privacy,” she said. “Ohhhh.” Glory Seed turned around and waited. Tikbalang used her magic to pull the ghostly rags and old shoes off herself. Being made of… whatever she was made of, they dissipated into nothing once they left her form. She then slipped the dress on over her head, pulling her hooves out the holes, and slipping it over her flank and pulling her wispy tail out the hole. She used her magic to fasten the drawstring on the back, and looked at herself in the mirror. Despite the dress sagging on her skeletal frame, she didn’t look that bad. It would have hugged her just fine if she had actual flesh, which was some small amount of comfort, and although she wasn’t sure what colour her fur had been when alive, the yellow and green wasn’t awful on her transparent grey self. “Alright Glory, you can turn around now,” Tikbalang said. Glory turned around to look, and she slowly turned in a circle so he could see. “Yaaay! You look pretty! Let’s go play outside!” Tikbalang almost told him no, because the snow would ruin the dress, but it had been a long time since any of these clothes had been anywhere. If she wasn’t going to use them, who would? “Alright, let’s go.” Tikbalang followed Glory down the stairs to the front door, and the two of them went outside. Tikbalang followed along as Glory swam through the piles of snow, while she walked along on top of them. “How do you do that?” Glory asked. “I’m a ghost, I don’t weigh anything at all,” She said. His eyes lit up and he smiled. “Oh! That’s what my aunties say! They always tell me my Mummy’s a ghost!” He grinned like he’d just figured something obvious out. “Well, uh, yes. That’s correct.” Tikbalang didn’t want to correct him. He was technically right anyway. “How do you become a ghost? I want to walk on the snow like you,” Glory asked. Tikbalang’s eyes widened in shock. This was not a good thread for the conversation to take. She didn’t want him getting any dangerous ideas. She sat down next to him on the snow pile and looked him straight in the eye. “Glory, listen carefully,” she said. “Ponies only become ghosts when they die, and dying is bad. You don’t want to die. It hurts, and it’s unpleasant, and you can’t do all the fun things you like to do right now, nor can you eat any of the good foods you like. What’s your favourite food?” Glory Seed thought for a moment. “I like to eat macaroni and cheese.” “If you’re dead, you can’t eat it anymore. What’s your favourite game to play?” Tikbalang asked. “I like playing tag,” Glory said. “You won’t be able to touch anypony anymore, and they won’t be able to see you, so you can’t play that,” Tikbalang said. “But I can touch and see you!” Glory protested. Damn. He was right. “That’s… that’s because we’re—“ Tikbalang closed her eyes and apologized in silence for what she was about to say. “—family.” “Ohhhh. So if I were to be a ghost, I would only be able to play with you, and never eat anything.” Glory Seed tapped his hoof against his chin in intense thought for a moment. “That’s not a good trade for walking on top of snow.” “No, it isn’t. You’ll become a ghost when you’re older, but right now, you need to enjoy what you have. Like macaroni and cheese. Not to mention, you lose a lot of your skin and fur.” Tikbalang pointed to her face and her distinct lack of lips. “Aw, it’s okay Mummy, you look very pretty without lips,” Glory said. “Besides, I can still play with you! Pick me up and walk on the snow!” Glory held out his hooves to her. Tikbalang smiled and stood up. She lifted him out of the drifts with her magic and placed him on her back. His snow-covered hooves made a mess of her dress, but it wasn’t important. She had convinced him to stay alive, and that was far more important than a dress. Tikbalang ran along the top of the snow drifts. She picked up speed until she was running at an unnatural pace through the forest nearby, whipping past trees as Glory laughed in delight on her back. They ran for a while, and played for a time, then went back inside to see how Plum Pudding was coming along with the repairs. Plum had taken some time out of his work to start a small fire in the fireplace. It was the middle of winter, and the house was quite cold, so Tikbalang couldn’t blame him. She took Glory Seed off her back and placed him in front of the fire. “I’ve covered all the windows. Not much snow should get inside during winter. If it does, I’ll just have to fix it come spring. You’ll try to fix the glass with your magic, yes?” Plum Pudding said. She nodded. “I’ll do my best. I don’t know if it’s something I’ve ever done before, so I cannot promise much, but I’ll have all winter to study.” “Thank you Tikbalang,” Plum said. “No, thank you, Plum. You’ve put up with me for far longer than I expected somepony would treat a ghost,” Tikbalang said. “Well, Glory Seed likes you very much, so it has not been one-sided at all,” Plum said. “Oh, speaking of Glory.” Tikbalang pulled Plum Pudding away from the fireplace for a moment to whisper to him. “He expressed an interest in becoming a ghost today.” She put a hoof on his shoulder to calm him down. “I talked him out of it. I told him he couldn’t eat macaroni and cheese if he died. That seemed to convince him, but keep an eye on him okay?” Plum Pudding nodded, and they both walked back to the fireplace to sit next to Glory Seed. They sat and stared at the fire for a bit, with Glory snuggling up to Tikbalang at first, but sadly, she wasn’t warm enough. He crawled under his father’s hooves and curled up. It wasn’t long before he was asleep. “It is late. We should get going,” Plum said. Tikbalang nodded, and used her magic to lift Glory up onto his father’s back. “I like your dress, by the way,” Plum said. “Thanks. Glory picked it out,” Tikbalang said. “I will see you in spring, Tikbalang. Enjoy your winter,” Plum said. “You as well, Plum. Goodbye.” Tikbalang shut the door, leaving her once again alone.