The morning was an eventful one.
The sun rose on time, shining its bright light over the hamlet of Ponyville. Ponies awoke in their beds, the last vestiges of their pleasant dreams fading quickly from their memory. Ditzy Doo crashed into her mailbox as she left her home.
Yes, it was an ordinary morning in Ponyville. The inhabitants of Twilight’s castle, however, were not having an ordinary morning. It had all started when Twilight’s alarm shrieked out its daily cacophony.
Two minutes before the clock struck seven, Starswirl floated up through the floor of Twilight’s bedroom. Normally he would not have intruded on a young mare’s privacy, but he was a ghost now. Ghosts intruded on bedrooms all the time. Usually with the intent of terrifying their occupants to the brink of insanity, true, but that’s beside the point. Starswirl believed the social etiquette relating to the privacy of bedrooms to not apply to ghosts.
Floating up into Twilight’s bedroom was his first mistake.
The reason Starswirl had floated up here was a simple one- he was bored. As a ghost, he wasn’t capable of sleeping, so had the entire night to fill. Unable to interact with the world, he had quickly grown bored. When the sun rose, he had finally had enough of it and quickly went to go awaken Twilight in the hopes that she would provide some entertainment.
He had passed his hooves through her in an attempt to wake her up, but it failed to produce the desired result. She had merely shivered and pulled the blankets tighter around herself.
When that failed, he attempted a ghostly classic- moaning. His ghostly moans echoed ominously throughout the room, their eerie quality surprising him.
When that had failed, he gave up on the idea of waking Twilight and resigned himself to a few more hours of boredom. He sat in the corner, attempting to come up with something to do until Twilight woke up.
Staying in the room was his second mistake.
The alarm clock went off. Starswirl, having never encountered an alarm clock, screamed in fright. The sound of her alarm mixed with the sound of a stallion’s screams woke Twilight up immediately.
Twilight, still with the fog of sleep shrouding her mind, was confused as to why an elderly stallion was screaming in her bedroom. Frightened, she started to scream as well.
Downstairs, Spike screamed from where they had left him the previous night.
Breakfast was awkward, for a few reasons. First and foremost, the morning’s incident was fresh on the minds of all involved, and everyone involved avoided speaking of it.
Secondly, Spike was unable to see Starswirl, and was skeptical about his existence. Each time Twilight spoke to the ghost, he wondered to himself whether or not she was unwell.
Thirdly, Starswirl was unable to eat any breakfast, due to his ghostly nature, and stared at Twilight with a jealous look as she finished her hay bacon.
“So, I was thinking today I would bring your journal with me as I went about my errands,” Twilight was saying between mouthfuls. “You should probably get to know the town if you’re going to be spending time here.”
Starswirl nodded in agreement, unable to tear his eyes away from the hay bacon.
“We might want to see about bringing you to Zecora, too. She might be able to do something to help you.”
Starswirl’s ears perked up. “Zecora? Now that’s a zebra name if I’ve ever heard one.”
“Do you know a lot about zebras? As far as I’m aware, there wasn’t much contact with them back when you were still... erm, alive.”
“I spent a year studying zebra magic in their homeland. An odd people, if you ask me. Still, it’s hard not to like the Stripes.”
Twilight sputtered and dropped her fork. She coughed a few times, trying to dislodge the piece of food that was stuck in her throat. “You... can’t say that word, these days, Starswirl,” she said when she composed herself.
“What word? Stripes?” Twilight nodded. “What should I call them, then? Bangles?”
“No!”
“Witches?”
“No!”
“Then what should I call them?! Sheesh!”
“Just call them zebras!”
“Surely we can still call them Skunks? Some of those potions they brew smell bad!”
Twilight facehooved.
“...I’m just saying, I don’t see how it’s offensive. We called them that all the time back in the day. No one complained.”
The two were walking through the Ponyville market. Well, Twilight was walking. The journal in her bag allowed Starswirl to float beside her.
Twilight was ignoring Starswirl as he ranted on about how things were back in his day. The subject matter was upsetting, to say the least, and she would look crazy if she tried talking to him in public. She kept her mouth shut.
Applejack’s stand was easily one of the most busy in the marketplace. A throng of ponies milled around it, hoping to get the freshest and ripest Sweet Apple Acres apples they could. Twilight still wasn’t sure why apples were so well-loved in Ponyville, even after all her time there.
She quickly made her way around the crowd, doing her best to avoid Applejack. She didn’t want to talk so soon after what happened last night.
They made it through the busy marketplace and emerged at the other side. The streets here were quieter and less busy.
“Does Zecora live in one of these houses?” Starswirl asked, gesturing to the nice houses on the side of the street.
“Zecora doesn’t live in town,” Twilight explained. “Her house is in the Everfree forest.”
“Ah, that nice forest that surrounds the capital? I spent a lot of time there in my youth. I used to explore and watch the forest grow with each passing season.”
“Um... the forest isn’t as nice as it once was.”
“Come now, it’s only been a thousand years. How bad could it be?”
Twilight bolted down the path, ducking under low-hanging tree branches and jumping over fallen logs as the manticore chased her through the woods.
“Faster!” shouted Starswirl. “Run faster, unless you want to end up like me!”
“I’m running as fast as I can, Starswirl!” she shouted back, agitated.
“Use those chicken wings of yours!”
“That’s racist, Starswirl!”
Twilight relaxed as the tea warmed her and soothed her tired muscles. “Thank you, Zecora,” she said to the zebra across from her.
Zecora smiled. “You are most welcome, dear Princess. I am happy you arrived without much duress. The Everfree seems darker of late. It is good you have not met a gruesome fate.”
“What do you mean?” Twilight asked. “Has something been happening?”
As the two mares spoke, Starswirl was floating around the room, examining Zecora’s collection of herbs and potions. He recognized a few, yet most were completely unknown to him. He passed his hoof experimentally through a bottle of green dust, and it emerged out the other side with a green tint.
“The timber wolves howl longer this season than last. It troubles my sleep, as they go on long after the day is past. But before I continue, a question seems fair. Why is there a hoof floating in air? ”
Twilight followed Zecora’s eyes. Starswirl was looking at them, one hoof green and, Twilight assumed, visible to all.
“Starswirl, if you don’t know what it is, don’t touch it!”
He looked down, sheepish.
“I’m sorry, Zecora. This is why I came here. This is going to sound crazy, but... do you know anything about ghosts?”
Zecora took a sip of her tea. “Zebras have stories of many a ghost and ghast. However, I’ve never seen one in the past.”
“Oh, that’s a relief. Most of my friends already think I’m going crazy. I’m glad I have you on my side, at least.”
Zecora nodded.
“We were wondering if you’d be able to help us? See, he’s linked in some way to this book,” she removed the journal from her bag, “and we were wondering if you’d have any idea how to free him?”
Zecora shook her head. “I would love to help, good Twilight. But with ghosts, I know not what is right. ”
“It looks like we’re stuck with each other for the time being, Princess,” Starswirl said.
Twenty four hours ago, Twilight would have been thrilled. All she could manage now was a sigh.
“...Hurrah.”
As the pony, the zebra, and the ghost spent the afternoon drinking tea, a pony entered the woods north of Hoofington. He was dressed in winter gear, despite the warm summer weather, and had on his back a bag full of exploring tools.
He was one of the few adventurers who dared enter The Madmare’s Cage.
As he neared the Cage, he felt the air around him getting colder and colder. His winter clothing seemed to do nothing to block out the chill, and he shivered. He reached a point in the path where the snow began to fall, and stopped just short of entering. If he took one more step, whatever event that caused ponies to never return may happen to him.
He steeled his nerves and stepped forward. The snow started collecting on him as he walked, stopping briefly every few minutes to shake it off. It only got colder and more snowy as he got closer to the center of the kilometer-large circle of cold.
He stopped just a hundred metres from the center when he heard a voice. He looked around frantically, eyes surveying the snow for the source. He heard it again.
Come closer.
The voice wasn’t coming from around him, he realized, but from within him. He shook his head frantically, as though he could dislodge the offending thoughts from his mind. “Get out of my head!” he shouted into the sky.
We’re going to be best friends. Just come a little closer.
He did.
