Perhaps Death

by WritingSpirit

The House Of Dancing Candles: Part 2 - Amaryllis

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Hey there, whoever is reading thi
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
To whom it may concern, my name is
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Hi there.

My name is Twilight Sparkle. I am a unicorn originating from the upper districts of Cante
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Okay......

So, Turner, as you... colts and fillies... may know him as the Doctor, told me you more or less knew who I was already, so I guess I can skip the introduction. He also told me to write down anything that spontaneously comes into mind like how I'm doing right now (if you ponies can see me of course), saying he wants to keep it an authentic experience or some weird stuff. Also, he told me not to flip back to the previous pages, just to make sure no discrepancies in time will ever occur or something like that. Said something about spoilers and that. Go figure, huh?

Anyways... he wanted me to write it because... remember the incident with the floating candles... thing? I'm trying not to spoil anything because Turner said it would ruin the fun and whatever. Aside from that, do you remember the part where I disappeared into thin air during an argument with Turner? What I'll be telling is what happened to me after that. Yes, Turner wanted me to write it for the sake of retelling the events in a more accurate manner, as the Doctor had said it. I don't know why I'm with him sometimes, but it doesn't matter. He still owes me a vacation.

Alright. Enough ranting aside. Here goes...
.
.
.

.
.
.

.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"There should be! If we can get in, then certainly there must be a way out!"

"And how did we get in here in the first place? The TARDIS, remember? The special time machine that we had been travelling in for so long now! I wonder who was that dumb mule who wanted to, oh, I don't know, go exploring and let the TARDIS disappear in the first place?!"

"For Celestia's sake, I said I'm sorry, Twilight."

"No, I had enough for once!" I yelled, staring into the glaring eyes of Time Turner, the affectionate Doctor and also my tourist guide. I know he never liked anyone, me included, calling him that so I'll just put that down here. Call it sweet revenge for not listening to me, Turner. "I wanted to leave. You heard me saying that and yet you didn't even care!! We could've gotten away when we had the chance, but you just had to go 'exploring'!!"

"I was curious!! You know how I am when I'm curious!!"

Best excuse ever.

I quickly opened my mouth, wanting to retaliate so badly with something -- can't really remember what that something was, but I knew it was something bad -- when suddenly, a tidal wave of darkness engulfed the candles, flame by flame extinguished. After that... it happened so fast I can only dimly remember what happened.

Just as the darkness swallowed us, a gigantic white flash burst into my eyes. I soon found myself floating in... somewhere really, really white... before I fell forwards, face flat on the cold, dusty surface of the wooden attic floor. Like how the darkness came before it, the light returned in a great wave, bringing with it my vision. Everything was like before: the candles still floating, the darkness still intact and the TARDIS still lost.

Everything except for Turner.

"Turner?" I yelled, looking around for him. "Turner?! Turner!!"

My voice echoed boundlessly, asking over and over the same question throughout this strange place. The silence was frightening, I guess. I didn't really know what I was supposed to do; it was usually Turner who gives me the instructions. There I was, standing in the silence, for once afraid of the dark. The candles weren't doing any good with it either. In fact, I just think it yanks up the creepy factor by a bajillion.

"Turner, please," I muttered, trying not to cry. I had never felt so lonely before in my life. Yes, I was a lonely mare before I met him; I was never good around ponies in the first place so it wasn't the first time I had been lonely. But this place, it... I don't know... it just makes the loneliness get to you. I don't like that.

I don't like that at all.

I started cantering about this place, hoping to find an exit or something. Anything aside from a candle. I remembered doing the stupidest things to make myself feel better, like reading out every passage of Starswirl The Bearded's A Century of Magic, singing a song my foalsitter taught me about sunshine and ladybugs and even occupying my mind with what my mentor, Princess Celestia, had taught me throughout my years as her student.

What? I was desperate.

It was then that I found this... this jagged square on the floor, its edges seeping with light. Upon peeking through it, I saw another world, I think, where it looks like some grand hallway in a five-star luxury hotel! I was so relieved and excited that the first thing I did was slam and pummel my hooves against it, wishing that anypony could hear me.

"HELP ME!!" I screamed, my croaking voice still feeling the effects of the argument. "IS ANYONE DOWN THERE?! I'M TRAPPED UP HERE!! PLEASE!!"

The only sound I got in return was my ragged breathing.

"SOMEPONY!! ANYPONY!!"

Huffing and puffing, I slammed at the hatch one final time, before slumping to the floor. My one chance of hope... gone. Just like that. I clenched my eyes shut, whimpering softly as I lied there, left wanting. I didn't really know what I did the whole time I was there. Maybe I was just staring off into the distance, remembering the good times I had with Turner... who still owes me a vacation. Sorry. Just have to get that point across.

"Please..." I begged to no one in particular. "Get me out of here..."

A slight lurch was the single warning I got before the floor gave away below me. In a split second, I fell head first into the light, slamming painfully onto another harder, less dustier wooden floor with a yelp. Weakly, with a groan, I glanced up, my whole body tensing as I stared into the barrels of a shotgun. Its wielder was a white mare in her thirties with a curly red and green striped mane, who gritted her teeth as she looked down at me, bearing no hesitance to shoot.

"Uh..." I gulped, biting my lip at the mess I was in. "Hi?"

"Lady, you've got ten seconds to tell me who you are before I blow your bloody head off."

"No, NO WAIT!!" I cried. "You don't understand! This is urgent!"

"Really?" she scoffed quite rudely. "What could be more urgent than saving your own life?"

"It's not my life that needs saving."

Okay, I'll admit, that ended up as a big fat lie, but I didn't really know where Turner was at that time and I was a teeny bit desperate to save mine, so what the heck, right? The best part of it was that she bought it immediately, lowering her weapon and letting out an ear piercing whistle. Immediately, an older stallion in a neat suit marched forward, his head dipping low at the mare who was probably his mistress.

"Yes, Miss Flambeaux?" he awaited his order.

"Take this back to the armory," she said, putting the shotgun into his careful hooves. "Also, prepare an extra bowl for lunch. We have a guest to attend to."

"Right away, Miss."

A loud sigh of relief flushed out of my mouth as the butler trotted away, leaving me alone with this... Miss Flambeaux. She still wears that little frown, almost not convinced about my story probably. Well, she was pointing a gun at my face a minute ago, so you can call this progress. Maybe.

"Th-Thank you..." I began quietly.

"For?"

"Um... for not shooting me?"

"You have to thank yourself for that," the mare replied, before sticking out a hoof. "Name's Amaryllis. Amaryllis Flambeaux. Call me Mary for short."

"Twilight Sparkle," I responded, shaking her hoof. "I... I'm sorry for being in your... attic, right?"

"Yes, it was an attic."

Before I could go any further, she suddenly raised her hoof, silencing me a coy grin. Believe me, I would love to continue my story, but she asked me to stop. If I had gone on, she might really shoot me with a shotgun this time. Not taking any chances, especially when you're on her good side.

"Well, come now! Save your stories for later!" she spoke in a surprisingly cheerful way, gesturing me down the hallway. "We have more pressing matters at hoof, Miss Sparkle."

"Like?"

"Like lunch, of course! What is a pony without lunch?" she exclaimed as if I had just asked the most preposterous question in the entire world. "Perhaps afterwards, you can divulge your stories and then..."

She gave me this strange smirk as she leaned close.

"You can tell me about this life that needs saving."
.
.
.

.
.
.

.
.
.
"Certainly an interesting story indeed."

I tried my best to smile, having just explained the entirety of my story from where I was and how I got here, leaving the bits about time travel, to how everything lead up to where I am right now: sitting down across Mary in a study with lunch long behind us already. It was a great lunch, by the way. One of the best I had while travelling in the TARDIS.

It was also one of the worst, in fact. I nearly spat out my lunch when I read the newspaper she gave me and finally realized that I took a leap back in time. It was so shocking that Mary had to calm me down when I started to, in her words, have a little bit of a violent emotional seizure. Within minutes, just like that, my glorious lunch was over.

What a bummer.

"So this pony... Time Turner..." she muttered inquisitively. "How is he like?"

"Um... gray. Black mane. Always wears a bowtie and occasionally a fez--"

"No, how is he like?" she asked again, which I could only blankly stare at her. "You know! As in his personality? He must be somepony important, seeing how you are so eager to save him."

"Oh... uh... I never really thought about it."

"Don't be shy now, Miss Sparkle," Mary teased me with a smirk. "Alright, let's try this. Give me one word that describes him."

"Uh... quirky?"

"As in?"

"Well... he's a strange pony. It's like he's a bit of a small baby inside, but once you get past that..." I felt my throat lurch a little, though instead I pushed myself a little bit to continue: "Once you get past that, he's actually kinda sweet. I mean, he helps ponies out a lot no matter how much danger they're in. No one else ever does that! Like, everypony else just... I don't know, ignores them."

"And by any chance was he sweet with you, my dear?"

"C-Couple of times..." I admitted with a blush. He can be sweet to me if he wants to. He does have feelings for me after all. To me, he may be the sweetest pony that has ever treated me in the nicest way and... wait, am I actually writing this down? Oh, great. Thanks for that advice on spontaneity, Time Turner. Really helped.

"You must be a very lucky mare to have a stallion treating you like that."

"How about you, Mary?" I asked, interested to hear her side of the story. What? Sure, I'm probably the most studious, most nerdiest mare in the entirety of Equestria, but that doesn't mean I don't want to hear lovey-dovey stuff like all mares do! "Did you ever have any stallions that admire you?"

"Honestly none."

"What? Why?"

"I don't have the time," she stated. "My family has trusted upon me, their sole surviving member, to lead our company, Flambeaux's Fragrants, to success. Every single day, I tasked myself to manage all my employees to ensure that I don't fail what my family had bestowed upon me. I'm here to make sure that we live on, no matter how small our business may be."

No wonder that name was so familiar! Flambeaux's Fragrants was one of Equestria's bestselling perfume brands in the industry which origins started to bloom from around this time. Even until today, they were still in business and leading the charge. My mother also used some of their products before; they would smell like the freshest flowers bought from a local boutique. Them still existing means that the family name had lived on, but with that in mind, something else bugged me.

"But if you're gone, then who's gonna take over the company?"

"Probably the best of my staff. I had to wait and see."

"But wouldn't you want it? A family to call your own?"

"Maybe I do, if love weren't all that complicated..." Mary muttered, staring off into space. At first, I really thought she was actually reconsidering what I said and going out to find her very special somepony, like how Turner and I are, somewhat. However, she quickly shook her head, much to my disappointment, instead saying: "Enough of this for now. What of your friend? What happened to him?"

"I don't really know. I thought he might be somewhere around your attic," I said, hoping to get more information. Yes, I literally leaped back around a hundred years in time and Turner would never be there, but whatever that might cause it may still be in the attic as we speak. In fact, it might up in the attic without her ever realizing it in the first place! "Is there anything there that might make him... you know... disappear?"

"Nope. Just my late grandfather's collection."

I nearly twitched my eye when she said that. "Ah... I see..." I stammered, forcing a laugh. "That probably explains all the candles."

"Wha... oh, Miss Sparkle!" she exclaimed, laughing softly. "It's not the candles I'm talking about! The candles are for decor only!"

"But... I thought..." I can't believe my ears! All those candles are just decorations? Wasn't there anything else that stood out in the entire attic aside from those candles? My gut immediately knotted, face turning pale; something else was in there. Like Turner said, something was hiding in the shadows. "Then what did your grandfather collect anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious? You were in my attic for quite a while and you didn't notice?"

I meekly shook my head, leaving her to answer.

"Why, he collects statues, of course!"

The tables turned in the most drastic way I could ever even think of imagining. The whole time I was up there, the whole time in the empty darkness, there was a collection of statues! The thought of how possible they could be never crossed my mind; it was more focused on how absurd that sounded to me! Statues! Probably dozens of them in the attic and I didn't even see a single speck of one! How?

"A-And where exactly are the statues in the attic?" I asked, hoping I was wrong. "Were they placed in a specific corner or..."

"My, my, what happened to you up there?" she mumbled, slightly concerned. "You couldn't have missed them. They were all over the room."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Can I see them?"

"What?"

"The statues," I clarified. "Can I see them? Just to make sure?"

"Of course, Miss Sparkle, but do be careful. My grandfather spent a hefty sum on getting them and I'd rather not have one of them to get even the slightest scratch."

It was a quiet march back up the stairs, crossing the multitude of corridors and standing at the hatch once again. With another loud whistle, the old stallion from before (her loyal butler) came with a long hook, with two servants carrying a small ladder behind and pitching up to the closed hatch, which opened only when the butler pulled it downwards with his tool.

Mary stepped up first after an exchange of unconfident staring, followed by yours truly after she took three steps up. Just as I reached the very top, I peered over the edge of the hatch, eyes widening when I saw these... these strange stone beings. Reaching out a hoof, Mary helped me up, smiling proudly once she saw my look of awe at the sight before me.

There were certainly statues in the attic; these silent sentinels that I had somehow missed during my ventures around the attic. It was unbelievable, how many of them were there, proving the point that her grandfather was a statue-obsessed collector and, in my head, a crazy freak. Most of them were pegasi, all shielding their eyes as if blinded by the lackluster light of the candles around, but altogether, they give this... collective eerie aura that made my horn tingle. It wasn't a coincidence to me: something was definitely wrong about this place.

"What are these statues?" I couldn't help but ask.

"To be honest, I don't really know," Mary answered, pondering on them herself. "From what my parents told me, my grandfather collected them because he believed they give out this magical force. This force, according to them, were the reason it made the candles float. Imagine, statues giving out magic with such an interesting capability... it's no wonder why my grandfather collected them."

"Yeah..." I halfheartedly agree. There was definitely something wrong about these statues. They don't seem all that menacing, but their presence by itself tipped me off that there was more to it than meets the eye. Turner must know what they are, if he were here, but it's all a matter of how to get this info to him.

That was the last thing I thought about until Mary gestured me back down to the corridors again,which was probably the best idea she ever had. As I turned away, I couldn't help but notice the candles flickered gently, even though there was never any wind in the first place. Looking back once more at the statues, I shivered slightly when I noticed one other thing odd about them. One little detail that they had in common

They -- I don't know, I might be dreaming -- but they...

They almost looked like they were crying...
.
.
.

.
.
.

.
.
.
"You never!"

"I did! Okay, I did!" I retorted, recounting one small mistake in a local bar. Believe me, it was a long story that involved a few drinks, hanging out with a bunch of guys and nearly getting myself arrested when one of the local constables came in for a routine inspection. Right now, the mare known as Amaryllis Flambeaux is seated across me in her luxurious study, laughing at my ridiculous antics. It seemed like only yesterday when we had our first conversation together in this exact place.

It had been six years since I've been transported backwards into time. Sixteen year old me had already aged to a ripe twenty four. I was a healthy mare from the future living the life in the past in the mansion of my new friend, who was a very nice pony to let me. Imagine that! If you told me I would do this a month ago, I would just laugh it off and called it a sick joke. I always thought the ponies of the past were a little bit more savage than we were, but they were still ponies. Just like us.

"And did he write you back?" Mary continued, leaning closer. "Come on, Twilight Sparkle! Did he drop off a note?"

I sighed, staring into my friend's pink irises before giggling. "He did, okay?"

"Oh my, this is getting interesting! What was in it?"

"He wanted to meet at the tavern again..." I began with a smile, which soon faded. "So I went there and had a great talk with him, but he wanted things to be serious between us. I think he even mentioned he wants me to be his marefriend somewhere! Of course, I said no, but he took it well."

"Not ready, aren't you?"

I shrugged. If she only could see through what a big-faced lie that was. No, it wasn't that I was not ready; it was that I still have to help Turner somehow. There were still the statues in the attic to worry about, of all things. Throughout the six years of being stuck here, I studied them, from small observations alongside Mary (without her, I had a feeling they would disappear again) to going through the ancestral notes of the Flambeaux family to narrowing down the origins of each statue through the use of the local library and with some permission for perusing the postal archives. So far, this was what I got:
.
.
.

1) The statues all came from different parts of Equestria, particularly around areas where certain supernatural occurrences and anomalies had been sighted.

2) The statues resembled pegasi, with approximately 90% of them shown in a weeping fashion.

3) Many of the statues were old, with some even dated to around 519 AE (ante exilium, meaning 'preceding banishment' of Princess Luna).

4) Each statue lets out a maximum of 13.5 magic units: the equivalent of using a levitation spell on around eight objects, which is quite impossible to ignore, considering they're emanating from an inanimate object.

5) The statues seem to be gathering some form of energy from somewhere at a specific time stamp of six to eight in the evening, according to the data of the daily discharge of energy from the statues I gathered which saw it fluctuate to the higher units at around this hour.

.
.
.
All these stuff were kept safe in my notebook, along with the evidence and all. Now, it all mattered on giving this to Turner somehow. Like, how can I guarantee this to be safe and last for the next several decades. or eighty-five years, to be accurate? Until I figure it out, I'm stuck here with nothing to do but to spend the rest of my life here in the Flambeaux estate. I never could've imagined that I would end up in a place like this, however comfortable it was. What about my family back at home? What about Princess Celestia and her teachings? What happened to that?

Amaryllis was right. I was not ready.

I was never ready.

"What about you, Mary?" I asked to get things off my mind, my friend's cheeks darkening. "You kept talking about me getting a coltfriend and such. Now it's my turn to ask."

"Well, I already told you, I had too much work in my hooves."

"You're two years older than me," I stated a fact. "You must have at least some time off, right?"

"I musn't dally around when opportunities are ripe for the taking, Twilight," she stated. "As they say, if opportunity doesn't knock, build a door."

"Same thing for love, isn't it?" I quipped with a grin. "If love doesn't knock, just build a door. I might not be a carpenter, but I know for sure that you're taking a really long time to build that door, Mary."

"Even if I wanted to--"

"Just one date, Mary," I cut in, leaning close to her as she shuffled in her seat. "One date with somepony and that's it. If it doesn't work out, I promise to you I would never, ever, ever bring it up again. Alright, Mary?"

Amaryllis Flambeaux, probably the last mare who was single in this earth, sighed.

"Just one date. One date and that's it."

"Yes!"

"But you better keep your promise if it fails."

"I certainly will," I happily agreed, waltzing out of the door with Mary following behind, shaking her head as we make our trip to the local cafes for a little... field research, I would call it. It was a really magical situation: a mare, going out for the only date she will ever have for the rest of her life... she would've wanted the best date of her life to satisfy the expectations that come with it.

There was a reason I had been studying her for six years, after all...
.
.
.

.
.
.

.
.
.
"How are you feeling, Aunt Twilight?"

"Fine, just fine..." I croaked weakly in my bed, mouth warm from a spoonful of cabbage soup. The mare before me smiled amiably, before offering another, this one much warmer, to sate my sickness. It was a little dull, knowing you would have to stay in bed all day, but I just got used to feeling content with it, I guess. Then again, when you're at my age, you would become content with even the smallest things in the world.

It had been seventy-three years since the last I saw Turner. Now, I'm an old mare, the oldest in the region actually, if I had to boast, just living my life stuck in bed. I don't really mind, seeing it was a pain to get around anyway. My mane had paled white with age, my body almost following suit in a tint of light purple. Amaryllis had passed on a long time ago, leaving me to care for her daughter and also my goddaughter, Marigold, during her teenage years. Yes, the 'one date only' plan worked. What can I say, I've got everything covered.

Those were great times.

It was Marigold that tasked herself to care for me in return for what I did. She was like her mother in most of her outer traits, but her personality came from her father. She was always one curious about the world, Marigold. I can't remember how many questions she asked me about the things around her, wanting something to sate her thirst for knowledge. Still, it is normal for somepony to forget things at this age.

She was also a romantic one. I could go on and on about the many coltfriends she has, which wasn't a surprise, considering she was heir and now chief executive for Flambeaux's Fragrants. In the end, she got married and they were happily running the mansion and the company. In fact, they even had a daughter, which I could say was like a carbon copy of Marigold.

Blossom was her name.

Blossom Flambeaux.

Little did she know she was the key to everything.

"Auntie Twilight?"

"Just a moment, dear," Marigold said, turning to her daughter standing in the doorway. "I'm just making sure Aunt Twilight gets her lunch."

"It's okay," I muttered, grinning at the ten year old filly. "Why don't you let Blossom do it? I'm sure you have some things you need to do in your office."

Marigold looked hesitant, biting her lip as she nodded. "But if anything happens, Blossom, I want you to run and tell me immediately, understand?"

"Okay, Mama."

With that, the mother left her child to care for little old me, feeding me a few more servings of soup. She was quite a responsible one, even at her age. Even when I suddenly coughed while she was feeding me, she was quick to clean up the mess I made. She was also less of a skeptic than her mother; Marigold wouldn't believe the stories I told her at night, which involves the travels of Turner and I. Which brings us back.

"Um... Auntie Twilight?" she called for me before I could doze off. "Can I hear some of your stories with the traveling doctor again?"

"Oh, Blossom..." I chuckled. "I'm afraid I've told you everything there is to tell you about the Doctor."

"Aw..."

"But maybe..." I said, thinking to myself. Was this it? Was this the one chance that I've been waiting for? I've longed for a solution for the dilemma I was in and this might be it. Straining one of my hooves, I pointed to the nightstand, beckoning the filly towards it. "Open it."

Without hesitation, she opened the drawer, her excitement drooping as she took out only a notebook. I almost stifled a laugh at that, but there were more serious things to do. Things like trusting a filly the information of something that little foals should not even get in the first place.

"Listen to me very carefully, Blossom," I said, to which she nodded firmly. "One day, a strange colt will come to your house. He will be in your attic, lost with no way to go. That colt, however you see him as, will be the Doctor."

"Really?" she exclaimed, her eyes shimmering. Dream come true, I suppose.

"Really, and he will only find the way out if you show him. Just to make sure it was him... he would mention me. He would talk about searching for his companion, Twilight Sparkle. Only the Doctor would know who I was." I stopped to cough for a moment, before continuing: "When you already know he's the Doctor, give him this notebook. It has the things that he needs to know in order to help your family. You remember the strange things I told you about in the attic?"

"Mm-hmm."

"He can help you with that."

"Okay," she said with more seriousness than I thought. "But... when will he be coming?"

"That... you have to figure out yourself."

The conversation that followed all became a blur in my mind. I guess she told me about her school and how she got good grades and stuff, I'm not sure. What I know was she quickly left, reminding herself of the promise that I made her keep, not knowing how important or how dangerous it can be. It would be all up to Blossom now to fix this and then, hopefully, Turner would finish it off with a bang like he always does...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.