//------------------------------// // The house will remember // Story: The House Remembered // by Waxworks //------------------------------// The day finally came when Plum was going to bring his mother to see the house he had worked so many years to fix. Glory and he had moved in, and Glory had his own room now, and Plum had his own as well. Both of them respected Tikbalang’s privacy and left her alone in hers when she needed it, but today Glory was in her room sitting on her bed while she paced back and forth. “You’re sure the dress looks good?” Tikbalang asked again. “Yes Mummy, it looks fine. Grandma will love you,” Glory said. “But what if she doesn’t?” “She will.” “But what if…” Tikbalang was interrupted by the sound of the door opening downstairs. “Oh no, I’m not ready. My skin is still missing!” “Just wait until Daddy mentions you, then come down, okay?” Glory said. “Glory, your grandma’s here, come down!” Plum yelled from below. Glory Seed hopped off the bed and trotted out the door. “Coming Daddy.” Tikbalang was left alone up in her room. She’d put on a nice dress and fancy shoes. They were in some old foreign style, which was another reason she thought she must have been from outside Equestria before her death. Or she spent a lot of time traveling. But she looked nice, with her mane done up, her dress clean, the only part of her that was unpresentable was, well, herself, with her skin missing. She waited, listening as Plum took her around the house. The older mare commented on the excellent work he’d done in revitalizing the place, ooh-ing and ahh-ing as they went. Eventually she asked the question Tikbalang had been waiting for. “But this house is huge. Is it really just going to be you and Glory living here? We could fit the whole family inside this place. What do you plan on doing with all the space?” The mare asked. “Ah, well you see mother, the house isn’t really mine,” Plum said. “You mean something legal? Then why can you live here and not the rest of us?” The mare said. “Not exactly, the old owner still lives here,” Plum said. “But the place has been abandoned for decades. Did they come back?” “No, she’s been here the whole time. Do you remember that winter when Plentiful Posies got lost in the woods, then the whole town saw a ghostly light in the woods?” “Yes, I do. It led to your sister and you never explained… wait… you don’t mean?” “Mother, I would like to introduce you to the Tikbalang who cursed and blessed us all these years,” Plum Pudding said. At her cue, Tikbalang stepped out onto the upstairs landing, and slowly descended, Plum’s mother staring at her with her mouth wide open. To her credit, she didn’t scream in fright, nor did she yell at her for all the blame she must have placed on Tikbalang for her family’s misfortune. She just looked, and closed her mouth in thought after a few minutes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Tikbalang, as your son has named me. My own name has been lost for many years, so that one will suffice,” Tikbalang said. Plum’s mother kept staring, her eyes flicking between Tikbalang’s hollow sockets and her jagged exposed teeth. “Plum, may I have a word with you outside?” Plum Pudding took his aging mother out the front door, leaving Glory and Tikbalang inside. Plum came back in after a moment and picked up Glory seed, probably at his mother’s urging, and Tikbalang was left to herself while heated voices argued outside the front door. It went on for several minutes, until all three stormed back inside, with Plum’s mother in the lead. She came up to Tikbalang and stood with her head held high. “Plum tells me you aren’t actually a natural spirit, but the ghost of a pony who lived here, is that true?” “It is.” Tikbalang did not address her with any honorifics. It didn’t feel ‘right’. She was much older than this mare, and giving her an inch wouldn’t be acceptable. “My son tells me you helped us many years ago, and all these years you’ve been here watching my grandson while Plum worked to repair your house, this is also true?” “It is.” “Well, they’re both very much alive, and our orchard is healthy, they have a new house to live in that is much more grand than the old one. I suppose I have you to thank for his change in attitude since the death of his—“ her eyes flicked down to Glory and she cleared her throat “—since death brought him so much grief.” “I do not claim that, but I appreciate his company, and he seems to appreciate mine. Glory and I get along very well,” Tikbalang said. “Then… I have no other complaints. It’s an unusual circumstance, but nopony is worse the wear for it. You are welcome to your new home, Plum. It is a work of art and you should be proud of it.” Plum’s mother turned and marched out the front door. Once she was gone down the hill, Tikbalang turned to Plum. “I can’t tell if she liked me or hated me.” “She liked you well enough. Mother has always been very superstitious, and seeing an actual ghost has probably confused her. She’ll warm up to you eventually.” Plum grinned. “She won’t let us stay here alone during Hearth’s warming, and this house is much bigger than our old one, so she’ll probably ask to spend it here, despite your presence.” “Hearth’s warming. That would be something,” Tikbalang said. “I think it would be lovely. There are enough rooms for my entire family, an impressive fireplace and kitchen, and if I can get plumbing working before then, it will be a cozy Hearth’s Warming indeed,” Plum said. It had been years since Tikbalang had ever spent a winter with anypony but herself for company. This would be a welcome change of pace, no matter what they thought of her appearance. Now that she had three ponies vouching for her goodwill, there was less chance somepony would freak out at her and call on a witch hunt. “I would like that indeed,” Tikbalang said. “I would love that! Now I’ll get so many more presents!” Glory said. Tikbalang felt a warm sense of happiness fill her. She didn’t know the circumstances of her death, or where she had been buried, but now, with all of this surrounding her, it no longer mattered. She had a family, and despite her appearance, they didn’t care either. They had each other, and that was what was important. Even if years down the line they all passed away or left, even if she herself one day went wherever ghosts were supposed to go, she had this for now, by hook or by crook, through richer and poorer, through their sickness and their health, as long as the building that enclosed them stood, the house would remember. And that was enough. The End.