The Ghost of Hearth’s Warming Past
Twilight’s eyes snapped open as the clock chimed. She sat up and looked around her dark bedroom, ears swiveling, searching for the rattle of chains.
“Look out below!” Twilight flinched and flipped around to her picture window just as it exploded, shards of glass tinkling to the floor. She let out a bark of air as something slammed into her belly, flinging her off the bed to tumble across the floor.
The quivering little body she had instinctually wrapped herself around as protection leapt off of her. “That….was awesome!”
Twilight rubbed her face and sat up, coming snout to snout with a glowing filly, hovering off the floor on excited wingbeats. The filly flipped her colorful mane away from her eyes and crossed her forelegs across her chest.
Twilight rubbed her face again. “R…Rainbow Dash?”
“Nope! I’m the Ghost of Hearth’s Warming Past, and you’re the egghead I’m supposed to talk some sense into.” The filly Dash doppelganger settled on the floor and puffed out her chest.
Twilight shook her head and looked the ghost over. She appeared to be eight or nine; the same age as her friends’ sisters, and although Twilight had never seen any photos of Rainbow Dash as a filly, the likeness was undeniable: her rainbow mane a mess, complete with glittering bits of glass, a challenging smirk on her lips, and blank flank just waiting to win a race and discover her true calling. The only out of place feature was the white light that emanated from her coat, lighting up the room and giving the ghost a commanding presence perfectly at home with her appearance.
“…You’re Rainbow Dash.”
The ghost snorted and prodded Twilight in the forehead. “I’m the spirit of Hearth’s Warming nostalgia; the excitement, fun, joy, and—and awesomeness of what Hearth’s Warming is like when you’re a foal. Of course I look like Rainbow Dash as a filly.”
Twilight couldn’t help but grin. “Alright, you make an excellent point, spirit.”
“Course I do!” She leapt in the air in a backflip, raining shards of glass on the floor, and landed at a strut. “So are you ready to go?” She turned to the broken window and spread her wings. “Follow me, Princess Egghead.”
Giggling, Twilight unfurled her wings and chased the Ghost of Hearth’s Warming Past out of her room and into the sky. Ponyville, dark in the early morning with curls of smoke rising from a few chimneys, rushed beneath them as they soared away, over the town square, across the river, and off into the Everfree Forest. As they flew, a ball of light spread in front of them.
“Is that where we’re going? What is that?”
“The past! C’mon, last one there’s a cockatrice egg!” She zoomed ahead, and Twilight beat her wings to keep up.
The light expanded across the sky as Twilight flew, engulfing her in whiteness. She blinked to clear her vision, and found herself circling high above Canterlot, with the ghost right in front of her. Her grin widened. “There’s my parents’ house! Is that where we’re going?”
“Gotta start somewhere.” With a wink, the ghost grabbed Twilight around the neck and pulled her into a dive at breakneck speeds.
Twilight yelped and clapped her hooves over her eyes as the roof of her house came closer with alarming quickness. She braced for a crash, but found herself set gently on all fours. She sunk to the floor and let out a shaky breath.
The Ghost of Hearth’s Warming Past clapped her hooves over her muzzle, straining to hold back laughter. It was an exercise in futility, and she fell to the floor, kicking her legs and howling. “Oh, man, you should’a seen your face!”
Twilight sighed and got to her hooves, offering the ghost a glare that was diminished by the smile on her face, and looking around the room.
She stood in the kitchen where she grew up. A rush of smells hit her snout as she watched her mother, a decade and a half younger, bustle about the room preparing dinner, and the memories tied to the scents staggered her. Her grin widened and she inhaled, remembering meals and packed lunches, midnight snacks under the covers with a flashlight and a book, foalsitting days with Cadence, all in a hazy blur.
“Mmm, it smells good,” was all she could say.
“Your mom can’t—”
“Hear me, yes I know; this is a memory. We’re observers seeing shadows of the past, correct?”
The ghost huffed and glared. “Well aren’t you little miss Princess Smarty-pants.”
Twilight turned to the sound of hoofsteps entering the room, and her eyes widened. “Smarty-pants!” She watched a little filly enter the room, and was struck with vertigo; it was impossible that she herself was ever that small. Yet there she was, fresh-faced with her snout in a book, cradling her favorite doll in the crook of a leg, which drew her attention. She didn’t remember Smarty ever looking so clean and neat.
The ghost groaned and rubbed the bridge of her muzzle. “For the love of—you named your doll Smarty-pants? You’re the eggheadiest egghead ever.”
Twilight stuck her tongue out at the ghost, and watched her little self sit at the table and devour the book. Her smile faded as she glanced around the room, watching it slowly fill with others: first her father, joining in with the cooking, then her brother and Cadence sitting at the table next to her. She tried to place the year, but none of the conversation triggered any memories.
“Oh wow,” the little Twilight exclaimed, slapping her book down, “teleporting magic sounds amazing! I can’t wait to learn how!” Her horn flicked sparks, but she stayed firmly in place, pouting out her lip. She picked her book back up and scrutinized the page.
“I remember now,” Twilight said to herself. “…I would’ve remembered earlier if I looked at the book.” She sat down in the middle of the room and watched her family put together dinner, singing half-remembered carols, setting the table, talking and laughing, while the tiny filly stayed buried in knowledge. She listened to the conversations in earnest, building a new memory from the shadows.
Twilight turned to the Ghost of Hearth’s Warming Past. “Spirit, I understand what I missed as a filly already. I spent most of my life without friends, without seeing the point in having them, but I learned that lesson already.” She took a step towards the glowing Rainbow Dash. “When you and the others—I mean…when my friends came to find me in the ancient castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, when Nightmare Moon almost won and I was at my lowest…I realized it then. That spark, that meaning of friendship: the spirit of Hearth’s Warming. I felt it in my heart then, and I’ve lived every day of my life afterwards keeping that spark alive.”
She turned back to the scene before her. Cadence and Shining were holding hooves under the table, but she thought they needn’t have bothered; she was engrossed in a book, hardly noticing what she ate, while her parents were engrossed in each other. Twilight Velvet and Night Light had a boisterous, vivacious marriage, that earned plenty of ‘ewws’ over the years from both herself and her brother, and it was no surprise to see them so close.
Twilight blinked, and the room changed. The food was different, the ponies around the table a little older: Twilight an inch or three taller, Shining sporting acne at the temple, a wisp more gray in her mother’s mane, but for everything different, nothing had changed.
“…I’ve learned this lesson already, spirit. I know what I’ve missed, and it’s a mistake I’ll never make again.”
“You’re still missing something, Princess Egghead.” The spirit bounded forward and circled the table.
Twilight frowned and looked again. Her brow knit. Shining and Cadence playing hoofsies under the table, her parents talking in grins, giggles, and batted eyelashes, and herself with eyes glued to a different book. The scene changed again, and again, a flurry of years forward in moments, first as a school filly, then as the Princess’ personal student home for the holidays, she watched cutie marks bloom on her brother, her foalsitter, and last on herself as the time rushed away like sand through an hourglass. So many missed memories, so much lost time. She folded her ears back and sighed.
“…I swear to you, I swear on Celestia, I will never make these mistakes again.” She straightened and glared at the ghost, as the little copy of Rainbow flew around the room in bored loops. “But one day letting others be with their families is not me backsliding! I won’t ever be that recluse I used to be again! I’ve already changed and that life is behind me.”
The spirit groaned and clattered to the floor. “Ugh! For such a know-it-all egghead, you’re dumb as a box of pony feathers! It’s obvious; don’t you see the—” The ghost’s tongue stretched out of her mouth and she clapped her lips shut, breathing gibberish out her snout. She glared daggers at Twilight and plopped onto her haunches. “I can’t even explain it thanks to this stupid promise! Alright, featherhead, if you’re not getting it here, c’mon, let’s jump ahead a ways.”
The spirit extended a wing and snapped her feathers together. The room vanished in blinding white, and Twilight lurched to the side, feeling like she’d been lassoed around the middle and dragged through space. A rush of sights, sounds, and smells spun in a dizzying cascade around her, until they resolved as the interior of Canterlot Castle.
Twilight grinned again. She stood in the dressing room after the Hearth’s Warming Eve performance they had put on for the capital, and she giggled at her friends all bickering over the open window. “I remember this! How could I forget my second Hearth’s Warming Eve after moving to Ponyville? I still remember how thrilled I was Princess Celestia asked us to perform in Canterlot. Oh, and we’re still fighting!” She laughed louder.
“You think that’s funny, watch this!” The spirit dove through the window, inhaled a gulp of air, and let out a tremendous howl. Twilight’s eyes widened as she looked around the room, the ephemeral sound piercing through, as if in the distance. The argument stopped.
“You know what? I got it.” The full grown Rainbow Dash flew to the open windows and snapped them shut, to the amusement of the others. Rainbow flew back, laughing with the rest of them, and the conversation shifted to complimenting each other’s performances.
Twilight turned to the spirit as she floated back through the closed window. “That was you? You made the windigo sound?”
“Maybe, or maybe I just knew what was gonna happen and wanted to howl; you’ll never know for sure.” She grinned wickedly at Twilight, landing with a clatter. “But maybe I’ll tell you if you pay really close attention to this, miss Brainy-dumb-dumb.”
Twilight rolled her eyes and turned back to her friends, reliving their conversation, overlaying the one from a few hours previously, delighting in her own demeanor: engaged with others, talking and laughing, her true self, with the shadow of her lonely past behind her and forgotten.
Fluttershy yawned, covering her mouth with a hoof. “Oh, excuse me, sorry.” She rubbed at her eye. “I’m not used to being up this late, and…” She took a deep breath, and released it, slumping her shoulders. “Seeing all those ponies took a lot out of me.”
“Perfectly understandable, dear.” Rarity patted her shoulder. “You were splendid anyway, but it is rather late. Shall we go find our rooms?”
“Psh, I’m not tired,” Rainbow boasted, flying back to the windows. “But I heard flying at night around the mountain is really awesome. I’ll catch you guys later.”
“Have fun!” Pinkie called through a yawn as Rainbow blasted out into the night air, her wake pulling the window shut behind her. “I’m a sleepyhead, too.”
Twilight smiled at them, lifting the fallen bits of costume up in a glow of magic. “You girls go ahead. I’ll finish putting things away; I’m used to late nights. I’ll see everypony in the morning!”
A chorus of ‘goodnights’ was marred by Applejack interjecting an, “I’ll help ya get packed up.” The others filed out while she approached Twilight.
“Oh, it’s okay, Applejack. I know you’re used to really early mornings, not late nights.”
“Don’t worry none, sugarcube.” Applejack grabbed the latch of a trunk in her teeth and pulled it open. “I’m so fired up from the play I’m fit to toss an’ turn, anyway; might as well burn some of it off lendin’ a hoof.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” Twilight lowered the scraps of clothing into the trunk, and Applejack snapped it shut. “I’m pretty excited still, too. I’m probably gonna be up reading for a while.”
“I always like hearin’ that story again. I was kinda sad Ponyville didn’t have one last year, but everythin’ got so crazy after Princess Luna came back it was a wonder we got winter started on time.”
Twilight smirked, sliding the full trunk back to the wall and an empty one into its place with magic. “That was a busy year, wasn’t it? I love the story, too, though. It was such an interesting part of history, especially for Clover the Clever and her life after studying under Starswirl the Bearded.” She floated the next set of garments into the trunk, her smile falling as Applejack snapped it shut. “I’m probably boring you.”
“Are you kiddin’?” Applejack sent the trunk to the wall with a kick. “I always loved hearin’ about history; it was my favorite subject as a filly. Plus, well, you know a bit about how my family helped get Ponyville started; I don’t think you can rightly be an Apple without likin’ it.” She chuckled, circling the room to pick up the odds and ends strewn about.
“Really? That’s great! I never get to talk to anypony about history. Even in school, all my classmates hated it and just wanted to learn practical application magic.”
“Any time ya wanna talk about it, I’m your mare. I read so dang much about Smart Cookie, but I ain’t heard nothin’ about Clover, ‘sides from her bein’ a close friend a’ Cookie’s.”
Twilight helped put everything else into place, and turned towards the door. “We’ll have to talk about it sometime; I know a lot about Clover, but not very much about Cookie.” She trotted forward before a hoof caught her shoulder.
“We should. Ya wanna grab dinner with me back in Ponyville?”
“That sounds great! We’ll have to keep it to ourselves so we don’t bore everypony else.”
“Everypony else?”
The ghost prodded the real Twilight in the shoulder, and she knit her brow looking over the scene. She remembered the conversation, and the dinner afterwards in a café back in Ponyville, swapping history stories with Applejack while the others rolled their eyes and talked about other things she didn’t pay attention to. Her frown deepened and she scrutinized the two.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun! There’s that new restaurant that just opened up, and I’m sure the girls would love it after all this Canterlot lifestyle stuff.”
“That…that sounds great, sugarcube. I’m sure everypony’s gonna love it, too.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow, watching Applejack talk with her past self. “That’s funny. Applejack seems…sad. She’s smiling, and I remember having a good time later, but she’s sad about something.”
“Well,” her former self said, “it looks like we’re all set in here, you ready to get to sleep?”
“Sure thing, Twilight. Lead the way; I get all turned around when I ain’t outside.”
As the two left, Twilight could see Applejack smile, but knew it wasn’t genuine. The lanterns around the room snuffed as the door shut behind them, leaving the only source of light the glowing body of the spirit. She turned to the Ghost of Hearth’s Warming Past. “…I don’t get it.”
“Ugh.” The ghost clapped a hoof to her forehead and sunk to her haunches. “Use that big, stupid brain of yours, will ya?”
Twilight rubbed her chin. “…I assume you’re trying to show me something about Applejack, and why she seemed sad just then…” She looked to the spirit for assurance, but the little copy of Rainbow was looking pointedly away and biting her lip. “You’re not allowed to say anything about it at all until I get it, huh?”
“Not one word. Stupid promise.”
Twilight found herself nodding in agreement, and sighed. “Did I offend Applejack somehow? She didn’t look angry, and we had such a good time at dinner back in Ponyville…that was a great conversation; I’ll have to remember to talk history with her again soon.” She shook her head, refocusing on the task. “…I don’t know what I’m missing here. Is there another memory you can show?”
The spirit let out a heavy breath and glared at her. “Sorry, this is the end of the line for me. You should hope the next ghost has more luck, Princess Rocks-for-brains.”
Twilight crossed her hooves and lifted her snout. “Excuse me for not figuring out whatever secret message you, Princess Luna, and two other ghosts are trying to tell me without telling me anything!”
“Yeah, yeah. I shouldn’t be surprised, ‘cause you would’a figured this out without ghosts if you were looking for it. Just…think about stuff. The stuff I showed you, and other stuff you remember from the past couple years.”
Twilight smirked, lowering her snout. “Is Rainbow Dash really telling me to think?”
The ghost offered a challenging glare, lowering down into a fighting crouch. “I’m not Rainbow Dash.” She opened a wing and snapped her feathers together.
Twilight sat up in bed. She looked around the room, noting the window was intact in its frame. She pushed off the covers and walked to her clock.
“Eleven-fifteen,” she read, raising an eyebrow. She walked to the edge of the loft and peered down to the floor below. The books Luna had knocked down were back in place, and she had a passing twinge of discomfort, unsure if she was asleep or awake. She shook her head and fluffed out her feathers, turning back to the bed.
“One spirit down, no answers, two more to go.” She let out a breath and climbed under the covers. She closed her eyes, thinking of the hidden hurt in Applejack’s expression.