> Broken Belle > by LucidTech > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Empty Eyes > --------------------------------------------------------------------------         It was a busy day outside the castle of Canterlot. The streets were empty, the stores were closed, and the castle courtyard was packed tight with ponies who had ventured into these horrible conditions to watch history. Today was the day that a very unique pony would be freed from the dungeon, on a probationary period. The uniqueness of this pony was for a simple, horrid purpose. She was the only known pony who had dared to break the ban on necromantic magic. It had come as a surprise and, in lieu of a usual punishment, she had been sentenced to ten years in a cell. In half the time, however, she had earned her freedom by keeping peace within the dungeon. With only an empty, lucid stare criminals would fall silent, fear striking them to the core. Of course, empty eyes were all she had anymore. Some would say that the princesses were being extremely merciful, letting her live at all after what she had done. Truth was her punishment was anything except mercy. When her spell had gone horribly awry she had attempted to take her own life as an attempt to escape the insufferable waves of grief that beat against her soul. She had been stopped by the guards that had arrived on the scene, just in time. They were the only ones to witness what had been summoned aside from the royalty and the necromancer, and without speaking they agreed never to talk of it. A separate contingent had escorted the weeping mare away, a trip that quickly devolved into a forceful drag. The princesses had reviewed the case in-depth, but had decided to avoid the death penalty. They had immediately assigned a small contingent of guards to ensure that the guilty pony didn’t kill herself. It didn't stop her from trying though. And try she did, multiple times for the first year, in fact. However, she eventually grew fatigued of the pointless struggle against her captors and gave up on ending her own life. The princesses were proud that they had managed to save her, and in turn were blissfully unaware of the horrible punishment they had enforced.         And now, five years later, the necromancer in question began to stir inside her cage at the sound of approaching horse shoes. The ringing shattered the air, and she slowly lifted herself from the unforgiving cobblestones and looked towards the guards. A tattered red coat fluttered about her, it had been beautiful once, back when she had first entered her prison, a majesty of a cape made on the cheap by an extremely talented dress maker. Briefly, the side of her flank was visible, a pair of bells were displayed happily against her white coat. However, the cheerful little mark was all but obscured by the black brand that crisscrossed over it, burned deeply into her hide as an eternal, self-inflicted testament to what she had done. Without a noise the unicorn raised her head and looked out from underneath her pink and purple curls. She looked down the nearby hall, towards the approaching contingent, with uncaring eyes that were ringed with signs of insomnia. She didn't care why they were coming, nor what the princess had decreed. To the mare’s mind, she had died a long time ago, now she was just waiting for it to become official.         The leading guard approached the cell. A pained expression was on her face, but none of the other guards wanted to comment on it. They were scared to. Her orange wings fluttered absentmindedly as she approached and when she reached the door to the cell she had to force herself to look at the pony within. There was a silence as the two looked at each other, and for a moment the purple haired pegasus thought she saw some emotion behind the dead eyes of the unicorn, but that was just wishful thinking.         “Sweetie Belle.” The name echoed through the empty stone halls, filling every corner with a melancholy ring. The tone that spoke was seasoned, but betrayed a hint of a child’s voice. The guards made a note never to bring it up. A breath of time passed while the mare kept her gaze on the inmate, waiting for a reaction from it’s sole occupant.         “Scootaloo.” The name came out as rigid as the pegasus’s armor. It was the tone you would expect from two old acquaintances. There was no emotion and that fact alone tore the lead guard’s heart in half. Unbidden, Scootaloo remembered what her friend had been like before all this. She steeled herself against her emotions and faced her old friend with a cold stare. “It’s been five years,” Scootaloo said, her bronze protection shifting slightly as she fell back into the strict habits and stances that had gotten her to her position as captain of the pegasus guard. A steering wheel adorned her flank, lightning shooting out from behind it, a testament to what she had done for Equestria. No response came from the unicorn in the cell. So the pegasus continued. “That means your jail time is up.” Still nothing. Deciding to share in the silence Scootaloo didn’t say anything else, instead taking a key from a nearby hook and placing it firmly in the lock. With a tight twist the jail door opened and Sweetie Belle watched as the bars that had marked her confinement for five years swung outward, showing her the possibility of freedom.  She didn’t move. Her gaze looked past her surroundings and through Scootaloo. A few of the guards shuffled uncomfortably and Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. After a few more moments of inaction, she spoke up. “Come along then.” The tone was annoyed and piercing, a few of the stallions behind her flinched, having been met with the voice before during their time as recruits. Sweetie Belle’s gaze remained looking straight ahead for the majority of their trip through the cold stone building. Until, that is, they reached a crossroads of halls. Instantly her head snapped to face a pair of massive double doors that marked the exit to the courtyard. But that wasn’t where they were headed, they had somewhere else to be first.  Scootaloo abruptly turned away from the threshold of the outside world and began to walk away from it, towards a second set of massive doors that were placed directly in line with the entrance. Sweetie Belle followed without complaint. They entered the glimmering throne room, drawing the gaze of Celestia and her council. The Pegasus Guard brought the necromancer forward, but the convict's eyes weren't on the dawn princess. No, they gazed through an ajar door, and at the purple irises on the other side. > Empty Heart > --------------------------------------------------------------------------         The door slammed shut abruptly and Sweetie’s eyes swiveled to face the princess, her previous distraction hidden behind an inch of wood. No one seemed to notice the strange occurrence, and Sweetie Belle wouldn’t be bringing it up. She instead remained silent and looked at the princess, waiting for her to begin the discussion. Even as Scootaloo and her regiment fell into a bow, Sweetie Belle remained stiff and apathetic.         With a glance of anger Scootaloo lead the other guards up the small set of stairs and into positions next to and behind Celestia, each of them watching her for any sign of violence. One guard, in particular, would note later that it seemed like Sweetie Belle was frozen where she stood, and her chest barely even expanded when she inhaled, as if a life time of stillness had trained her for this moment.         There was a distant sadness in Celestia’s eyes as she gazed at Sweetie Belle and her mind seemed to dance across memories of when she had been so much younger, so much happier, so much more… alive. She fought back the building urge to sigh in remorse and instead began the line of questioning that she had planned to deliver.         “Do you know why you’re here?” She posed to Sweetie Belle. A simple question, and one that was more designed to judge the mental sanity of the mare, as opposed to her character.         “Having broken the eighteenth law of the fourteenth address of Celestia in regards to necromantic magic I was judged to spend ten of my years in the castle prison, watched over and under surveillance. However it was decided that after five years I had done more than was necessary and was given permission for an early leave.” Sweetie glanced to Celestia and the robotic voice that had hitherto haunted her words fell away, leaving the next words completely empty of even that.. “And now we’re going over the final judgement, to ensure that I have stability enough to coexist with the ponies of Canterlot. A phase which is only used sparingly, and is suspected to be used only when the princess feels a close personal relation with the pony.”  Celestia blinked, but didn’t let the feelings inside display across her face, instead pressing forward with the questions. She saw a few guards dare a glance at her before they returned their eyes to the mare below. “If you had the opportunity to redo your transgression, what would you change?” “Three parts Nightshade, two parts arsenic in the creation of the catalyst and I would have completely forgone the poison oak.” Celestia looked down at her and felt her gut wrench. She was the only one in the room who understood that that change was a delayed suicidal blast after the spell was complete, but she didn’t feel the need to voice it, instead looking down at Sweetie Belle with regret. “I would still have done the summoning though Celestia, I will never say otherwise.” For a brief moment, sadness and fear grew behind her irises. “I had to try.” There were several other questions that Celestia had wanted to ask initially, but she suddenly found the desire to do so long gone. “Captain.” At the sound of her title, Scootaloo’s gaze moved from Sweetie Belle to the princess, even as the princess was deserting her throne. “Escort her home.” Scootaloo barely had time to bow again before the princess left through the pair of wooden doors, leaving the guards to their duties. Scootaloo descended the stairs and walked past Sweetie Belle, the unicorn in question turning to follow her old friend as they left. The two were alone for the walk to the front door, the other guards having taken too long to follow and knowing that running to catch up when they were no longer needed was something a proper guard did not do. As such they moved to various stations around the castle and set up their posts, either to prevent the crowd of ponies from going places they shouldn’t, or just for general defense. Scootaloo glanced at Sweetie Belle and found her yet again looking forward. She regretted coming in to work today, it had only caused her pain and suffering. She’d thought that maybe Sweetie Belle had changed for the better, or that she would change for the better when she found herself going home. It seemed neither of these were the case. “I’m not sorry Scootaloo.” Sweetie Belle’s voice sent a shiver down the captain’s spine, but she repressed the need to show it. “Neither am I.” The doors opened slowly, letting the midday sun stream in. Both mares were forced to blink away the blinding light, Sweetie Belle especially, having spent so long in the darkness. A few rolling murmurs died away, and it was completely silent when their vision finally cleared. Sweetie Belle looked out on the large gathering of ponies, some of them starting to fidget under her stare. “Come along then.” Scootaloo began her way down the steps with Sweetie Belle behind her, as they reached the courtyard the ponies began to spread apart, making a narrow path down the middle of the group for both ponies to walk. Things were going without incident until a red object was sent flying from the midst of the crowd, hitting Sweetie Belle squarely on the side and causing her to stumble from the blow. Scootaloo whirled around in anger and deep into the crowd for the perpetrator. She looked over them for anything peculiar, then glanced at the wayward projectile. She recognized it instantly as an apple and looked deep into the crowd again, this time looking for something specific. Her eyes landed on the bright bow that stood out among the various other ponies and she began to shove her way angrily through the crowd, causing panic and commotion as they tried to make way for her. As always, Sweetie Belle followed silently behind. At last she came to the attacker and glared angrily. “What’s the big Idea A.B.?” Apple Bloom looked back with an equivalent madness. “Just settlin’ a score is all. Move along captain.” Her accent seemed to have mixed itself deeply with the Canterlot accent, giving an odd feeling a sensibility and farm land raising. “You can not attack somepony under my protection and not expect retaliation, regardless of who you are or who you think you are.”  The mare let out an audible exhale in response. “Fine then, a fine, thirty bits for unnecessary aggression and assault!” “Ya can’t do that!” “I just did!” “Stop.” The voice was commanding and not only did both the mares cease their aggression, but every pony in the crowd suddenly came to a stop. It sent chills down spines, and all the crowd looked fearfully at Sweetie Belle. A.B.’s gaze turned from curiosity to anger almost immediately as she looked at Sweetie Belle. “You took my best friend five years ago when you lost yourself for that stupid goal, breaking the highest law and getting yourself locked away. Do you have any excuse for putting me and Scootaloo through that?” Sweetie Belle seemed to ignore the question completely as she spoke next. “So you hate my very being and wish I hadn’t come back out of that jail? You despise what I’ve become as this empty husk and think it would’ve been better if the death penalty was passed?” Grimly, A.B. gave a nod. Sweetie turned to walk away. “We should start a club then.” Scootaloo gave the earth pony one last parting gaze before she led Sweetie Belle out of the courtyard completely. Scootaloo led the walk a fair distance, but had to stop at a corner to get her bearings, having forgotten the layout of the city around this area. She hadn’t needed to memorize it for anything, and it had fallen out of use in her memory for a long time. As she stopped to consult a map,. however, Sweetie Belle took a left suddenly and Scootaloo was forced to follow her. “Then a right, second house after the fountain.” She overheard Sweetie saying under her breath and decided to let her lead the way, surprised that she’d still know it after all this time. When they came to the door Scootaloo produced the house key from her saddlebags, sliding it into the lock and twisting it with a flick of her wing. The door swung open and Sweetie Belle looked inside, keeping her feet firmly on the porch. “Was the front room cleaned?” She asked, hesitant to pass the threshold until her fears were comforted. “Yes, multiple times.” Without a word of thanks, Sweetie entered the building and shut the door behind her, keeping Scootaloo on the outside. When the wood slammed in her face, Scootaloo sighed, having fully expected it by this point. With a glance skyward to confirm clear weather Scootaloo let her wings fold out to their full length. Her mind was on a lot of things as she rocketed into the clouds, but none of it could be answered or comforted, and she was forced to let it weigh on her heart as she set her path towards the castle. > Empty Stomach > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sweetie Belle had received mail.   This was a surprising, albeit not exactly shocking, circumstance. She had eyed it with a gloomy gaze over a breakfast of canned food, the only thing that had survived over the obscenely long period of time that she'd been out of the house, the infested cereal was immediately thrown out in favor of not having insects crawling through her food. They'd cleaned the front room, just as Scootaloo had said. But that was the extent of their work.   Not that Sweetie could blame them. Even after all this time and even with perfect walls and floor she could still feel it in her bones. She suspected that wasn't limited to just her. She suspected the neighboring houses had lost a lot of value after the event, no one wanted to live next to the building that sent chills down your spine if you walked in front of it.   So she'd decided that the mailpony deserved a small bonus for having the guts to drop off a letter addressed to her. She'd left it sealed though. Sweetie Belle didn't particularly care to have her sins listed off to her quite this early in the morning, as she expected the note to say.  So after finishing off a particularly tasty can of applesauce with some cinnamon mixed in she moved upstairs and took a shower.   She turned the water on and was extremely disappointed when nothing came out of the tap, or rather she was mildly inconvenienced. She’d forgotten about the water bill. She’d need to begin paying that again before she’d be able to get water no doubt. She gazed at the shower head for a minute in silent apathy before she snatched a bar of soap and some shampoo from the cupboard, grasping it strongly in her magic. She left the bathroom and pulled open the door directly outside it. She yanked one of the towels from within, also in her magic, and left. She stopped outside the door and began to beat the towel out to make sure no insects had made it their home in her absence. Almost immediately her beating grew less violent and she seemed to be losing herself in contemplation.   After a moment she entered her home again, snatched the letter off the table and added it to the ever growing collection of item's she held aloft. She gave the towel one more good whip to make sure it was empty of creatures and headed out towards the nearest town square.   It was sooner rather than later before she arrived. Several ponies were already about their morning business and that meant two things for Sweetie Belle. With what looked to be almost subconscious casting she turned invisible with all of her items and even her magic aura.  She moved towards the fountain in the middle of town with single-minded steps, avoiding collision with any of the other ponies that populated the path between herself and her destination. She paused momentarily at the edge of the fountain, a brief moment of hesitancy striking her before she pushed past it and into the water.   She levitated the items out of the way of the watery splashes and moved towards the middle of the fountain, wanting to use the roiling waters to her advantage. Of course, she would have preferred it if she could dunk her head directly into the falling water. But disguising water flow would require an invisibility spell on the displaced water and an illusion spell to make it look like the water was still flowing normally. And while she COULD have done that she decided not to in favor of simply settling into the churning base of the fountain.   Firstly, she dunked her head readily into the water, her magic almost faltering from the cutting cold of the morning that had lingered on in it. Carefully, she lowered herself the rest of the way into the water, keeping all the items from getting even marginally wet, and kept them all held tightly in her magical grip, ignoring the cold that leeched down to her bones. She let the biting water run over her coat and her mane, pulling at it and moving it about in the whirling ripples. She held her eyes closed but only barely, as if reluctant to put too much effort into it. The soap was the first to get wet and she used it to scour her fur, removing what little dirt had managed to stray into it. In all honesty she hadn't needed a shower, but it wouldn't have been lady-like to go about the day without one.   Deciding she needed to work quickly on this next step she raised her head above the water and squeezed some of the shampoo into her mane. She rubbed it into every follicle of her hair with care and determination, making sure not a strand was missed. She did that twice before she decided that she was certain she'd gotten everything. With one swift movement she plunged her head back into the water and used her magic to help the water run through it and get the remnants of the shampoo out.   This, of course, had the side effect of bubbles. Lots of bubbles. When she stood from the fountain, still fully invisible, a large portion of the ponies were beginning to turn towards the fountain in curiosity. Stunned by the sudden wave of bubbles that was covering the entirety of it.  This played to Sweetie's advantage as it let her slip out of the fountain without being noticed.   Well, for the most part. There was one colt who saw. He was looking straight at her as she walked out of the fountain, and he saw her wet hoofprints left behind on the stones. He was stiff with fear as he watched the steps approach, his mind entirely caught in horror. "Gh-Gh-Gho-Gh" he stuttered, trying to speak. But his voice was too quiet for his mother to hear against the murmuring crowd.                      Just as Sweetie Belle was within poking distance he managed his words, but was unable to add any volume to them. "Ghost." He said softly, his words not even louder than a breeze. Sweetie heard him though, close as she was, and answered his call as she passed.   "Ghost?" She asked, and softly shook her head, talking more to herself than the colt. "I wish." And that was all she said. The words caused the colt to turn to his side to look at where the voice had come from but there was nopony there. There were only the wet hoofsteps moving away from the fountain, and he was far too frightened to follow. She waited until she was free of the crowd before she let her invisibility fade. She lifted the towel and began to dry her mane and coat. She had the towel over her head when she heard a gasp, and she lifted the cloth to get a look at who she had managed to startle this time. She saw a set of purple eyes in the distance, barely visible as they turned down an alley. that vanished around a corner, out of sight. Sweetie blinked once in response and continued her trip, ignoring the appearance in all respects. She moved the coat over herself one more time, managing to dry herself off for the most part, then returned the towel to the collection of floating objects, swapping it out for the note. She opened the envelope carefully and lifted the paper from within. A vibrant filligree decorated the paper, the faux gold in the print giving it reflective qualities. Sweetie opened it and read the words contained therein. Her eyes scanned over the redundant pleasantries. Idly. It was an invitation to some kind of party. She read it again to make sure that it was only a party, not any kind of important event, and promptly tore the letter in half and threw it into the nearest trash can. She looked ahead at the alley way she’d seen the eyes disappear into and saw them staring at her again. When the owner of the eyes realized they were being watched they disappeared back into the darkness. Sweetie Belle went home. Deciding she would take care of the actual ghost later, there was no rush after all.   > Empty Reflection > --------------------------------------------------------------------------         Sweetie Belle slipped in through the door, her joints were aching and her body was sore. She’d become extremely fragile and out of shape when she was locked away in that cell, and her body didn’t take too happily to a return to daily excercise. After her visit to the fountain in the morning she'd run some errands and then taken two laps around the city in an attempt to get back in shape. Yet despite her best efforts the short schedule had ended up taking her entire day to complete, not to mention that her muscles seemed ready to collapse from exhaustion on top of it all. However, anyone looking at her wouldn't seem to have noticed from her expression, Sweetie Belle seemed completely unaffected and her eyes were the same constant blank that they always were, and they remained that way as she moved into the bathroom of her home sweet home.        Among the list of tasks she'd wanted to finish, and at the top of it in fact, was the matter of her water issues. Luckily it was a matter easily solved with a couple signatures and a chunk from the large savings she’d stockpiled prior to her incarceration. Money that paid up what she owed from before her stint in a cell as well as paying for a month in advance. She didn’t mind seeing the money go, she was happy to be free of every dollar, each one reminded her of what she’d lost and the petty recompense she’d received in return. More than enough money to live comfortably after her sister’s death, but not enough to live happily. There was never enough of anything to live happily anymore.         She showered quickly, her mind threatening to stray in the hot water. She spent little time on her mane and promised herself she’d clean it thoroughly the next morning. The only thing she had to do was to wash the sweat out of her coat and to get some sleep. The water barely had time to steam the mirror before she turned it off and when she stepped out from behind the curtain she blinked once in surprise at what she saw.         Marked into the mirror, in crude hoofwriting, was the word 'help'. All capitals, and the tail of the p seemed to drag off and away to the edge, disappearing as it left the only surface in the room that could be written on. Sweetie Belle moved to the towel rack and dried herself off, taking the opportunity to wipe down the mirror before she left as well. She left the towel on the rack and didn’t give the message a second thought. Instead, she went to her bedroom.         With a distracted glance she turned off the lights, a flash of magic dimming the room to darkness, Sweetie glanced around in the blackness for a moment before she made her way to her bed. She slid into bed and pulled the covers up around her neck, leaving her head exposed. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep.         Unfortunately, the night didn’t seem to want to let her sleep easily and a constant, humid breeze ran over her nose in puffs. She attempted to ignore it, knowing very well that it was just some midnight air settling, making gusts from her windows all the more annoying. That’s what she told herself until she remembered that the windows were closed, anyway. Then she was forced to open her eyes.         Red orbs stared back at her from the darkness, and as another gust moved across her muzzle she saw a white gas exit the darkness from beneath the stark red eyes. Sweetie stared on, eyes half closed in annoyance for not being allowed to sleep in peace.         “You didn’t scream.” Came the deep throbbing voice of whatever was there.         “No, I didn’t.”         Teeth split the darkness like a zipper, white knives hanging in the blackness. “You should’ve.” It said simply before it lunged. It was about to close its mouth around Sweetie’s neck when it found it couldn’t move any further into the attack, it swiftly found out that it couldn’t back out of it either.         The monster looked wide-eyed at Sweetie and she stared back at it, a look of annoyance still firmly set in her features. “I was gonna put this off until later you know. But you simply wouldn’t let me get any sleep.”         Sweetie grudgingly drug herself out of bed, the monster finding it had no choice but to follow. The lights flickered on as Sweetie opened the door to the room. She glanced back one time to see the collection of darkness in the light before she left, the dim light coming from her horn making itself known as she put more magic into forcing the creature to follow her.         In a moment they were in the bathroom, the creature silent in shock as Sweetie looked into the mirror. It wasn't quite used to being drug around by a pony, but what was about to happen would put it more on edge. “Bloody Mare.” Sweetie Belle said simply, the words holding a kind of chill to them that made frost gather at the edges of the reflection. The image inside rippled slightly, but settled all the same. At the sound of the name the creature she’d brought with her unwillingly began to squirm against the magic, trying desperately to run.         “Bloody Mare.” Sweetie said again, calm and composed. The exact opposite of the spirit that fought her binds. Sweetie's magic grew in brightness as it held the creature still, keeping it from moving even an inch out of the room.         “Do you not know what you’re doing mortal?” The creature screeched, causing Sweetie to glance at it for a moment. “The being that you call will kill the both of us!” It gave up on the bonds and looked back to Sweetie. The monster thought for a moment it saw a glimmer of forethought and doubt. Unfortunately what it thought it saw wasn’t ever really there.         The lights went out and a frightening chill hit the room, frosting the mirror completely over, the slight moisture from the shower enough to coat the surface in a thin sheet of ice. From the darkness came a voice, and it made the monster give up all hope. “Bloody Mare.” Came the third call from Sweetie Belle, and the world felt like it lurched in response.         A strange ethereal light lit the room as the world settled. The door to the bathroom swung closed by some strange force and the reflection in the mirror began to change. The door in the mirror opened, and the one in the real world remained closed. The monster that Sweetie had brought with her began to shiver and quake in fear, while Sweetie simply looked on, almost a pensive look in her eyes. A hoof emerged from the open doorway in the mirror, thin and fragile looking, veins visible through the pale transparent skin. Slowly the rest of the figure came into view, a mare moved into sight. Then, there was a sigh. “Ugh, what the heck. Who called me? I was trying to catch some z’s.” The mare was looking at the ground and shaking her head. “Look, whoever you are. I don’t think you get it. You call me and then I decide if I show up. Alright? You don’t force me to show up. Only pony I ever knew of who could do that was-” The voice came to an end suddenly and Sweetie watched as the eyes of the mare in the mirror began to widen slowly. She looked up and at Sweetie Belle. “Well I’ll be. I haven’t seen you in a long time…”  “I thought you said you would keep the portal closed in my absence.” Sweetie said, idly. “I did say that. But then you stopped calling in and I lost all reason to bother with it anymore. You know I work for profit. You stop providing what I want and you stop getting what you want. What did you think was gonna happen? I was gonna keep the portal shut as a friend?” “I guess that was stupid of me to think.” Sweetie Belle said idly. Her eyes dark and empty as she spoke. “Yea, it was.” The figure in the mirror continued without paying any heed to the body language of her speaking partner. Instead she looked at the shadow that was floating next to Sweetie Belle. “Say, is that a rank three demon? Is it for me? Nice catch I must-” The mirror shattered apart. Sweetie Belle’s gaze was sharp and unforgiving as she stared at the broken shards that fell slowly to the counter. Her magic still lingering on some of the pieces as the hit the counter and broke into smaller shards. “I suppose I was stupid for thinking I had a friend.” She said, repeating her statement earlier. The demon looked at Sweetie in horror, knowing quite full well what it took to break a mirror connected to the Bloody Mare herself. Sweetie Belle looked at the demon with cutting eyes, and the monster felt like itself was being shattered as well. “Congratulations, you get to help me permanently seal the portal that you came in through. You just got promoted to rank four and you work for me now. We'll do the paper work later. Agreed?” "Of course ma'am, I wouldn't... I wouldn't dream of letting this opportunity pass me by!" The demon said with a half smile, knowing full well the choice wasn't its own to make, and knowing full well what might come of the situation if it were to pretend it was. > Empty Cup > --------------------------------------------------------------------------         Sweetie Belle sipped her coffee, she knew her sister would’ve sighed, but she prefered it to tea. She would’ve told her sister so, her sister would’ve smiled, admitted she was being a bit old fashioned and they would’ve shared a hug. Then she would’ve gone out with her friends or to a show or go record a song and then she would’ve come home and told her sister good night. She would’ve. But she didn’t.         She couldn’t.         She’d never be able to tell her again.         Sweetie blinked and forgot and changed the topic of her thoughts. She’d sealed the portal at least. She blinked, she remembered. She remembered that demon on the precipice of the fiery pit, a foul thing that wasn’t the least bit happy to find itself being sealed. She remembered the words. ‘It’s YOU! They tell stories about you! A soulless conniving monster that will do anything to get what you want! Whispers about deals struck with the higher echelons! I should’ve known! What mortal takes pity on a demon?! You planned to use me as a bargaining chip, Didn’t you?!’ She remembered being left alone, she remembered the portal being sealed.         She remembered the bloody mare. “I suppose I was stupid for thinking I had a friend.” She whispered between parted lips again, and then took another sip of coffee. She remembered not sleeping too. That part was hard to forget. Harder still were the flickering Purple eyes that were always just there, just at the edge of her vision, always watching her, looking out from the place where the owner of them stood, gazing into her. Sweetie Belle sighed, she'd had enough of it. She filled her mug to the brim and took another sip of coffee. It was this that kickstarted the spell she began to build, it built and built until Sweetie Belle gave up on politeness and drank the remainder of her coffee cup in one quick gulp. She opened her eyes, feeling wide and awake for the first time in several hours, and felt guilty that she was about to abandon it. Still, the magic was there and she let loose the spell she’d summoned.         The world went gray, Sweetie’s head fell to the table. Sweetie turned. Two of her, but one unmoving as it lay on the counter, breath shallow and fading. Her eyes took in the dim and faded world around her, far darker than the one she’d left, but the Sweetie who stood in it didn’t mind. She gave herself a moment to acclimate to her new surroundings before she turned to face the haunting eyes that had stalked her for the past few days. She saw the filly who stood there, her purple eyes the only color in the drained world around them. Sweetie waited as the filly backed away nervously, patiently waiting as the filly tried to escape. “S-s-sorry I… I didn’t mean to.” She stuttered, limbs flailing, finding no purchase on the ground that had been her foundation before. Now, icy slates were beginning to form, rising up out of the ground itself, lifting the filly ever so slightly as she was trapped by slick ice. Every moment that Sweetie Belle stared the ice grew worse and worse until movement was impossible. And only then, only when the filly was unable to flee, did Sweetie approach. Her steps were easy and sure on the ice, unperturbed by the friction-less floor. But, even as she approached the filly, Sweetie stayed silent. She mouth was shut and her gaze was blank, and the filly’s panic only grew.  “I- I just thought that…” Sweetie blinked slowly, the filly felt at ease as Sweetie stopped her approach. “I’m not in the business of helping lost souls. I’m not in the business of anything anymore. Find another medium and leave me be. I am not the one that you should seek help from.” Sweetie turned back towards her body, the ice receded, she wanted to get back before the spell snapped her back. “I- I didn’t come to get help from you. You just- you looked so lonely. I wanted to…” Sweetie’s steps were stopped by the words, paused mid stride. She slowly lowered her hooves to the floor and turned around again. “I appreciate the sentiment, but you should try and find what’s keeping you here, nasty things happen to those who end up stuck.” The world seemed to shake, as if on queue, and a malevolent echo rang out from some unknown place. The filly tensed up in fear, but Sweetie remained unmoved. As the noise faded away the filly brought herself to her senses and looked to Sweetie again. “I- I know I shouldn’t give up. Mom said never to give up. But it’s so dark and scary sometimes and I- I just want to- to-.... I just want it to end!” The filly shouted, her words filling the space. “There’s monsters here! Demons with long teeth and sometimes they’ll chase me for days! Mom said the afterlife was nice, but this isn’t nice! This isn’t nice at all! But they don’t show up when I’m near you!” Sweetie could feel the pull from her body growing, the coffee was helping to delay it, and she could fight it off if she had to but that would have nasty circumstances if she did it too long. She had some time left still however. Time enough to comfort the child. “Why don’t they show up near you?” “They’re scared of me.” Sweetie Belle said simply. “Scared of you? Why?” “I’ve done some bad things, things that noone else has done. Things no one should ever do. They’re scared because they know that I can stop them where they are. And not because I’m powerful or because my magic is unbelievably powerful, any number of magic users would beat me handily in a magic duel. The monsters are scared because they know I’ll never stop coming.” "So... they don't like you because you’ll never give up?” The filly asked, looking the ice and then at the mare who stood before her. “Because I’ll never give up.” Sweetie said with a nod. “So… all I have to do is never give up?” The filly incredulous at the simplicity of the statement. “Never give up, know your limits, keep an open mind. That will get you farther than me. I only did two of those.” The filly seemed lost in thought. “Do you understand?” Sweetie was beginning to feel the approaching deadline, she needed to get back to her body soon or she would be forced back. It took a moment as the filly reviewed what she'd been told. It seemed for a moment that she doubted Sweetie Belle, but then, realizing what she'd seen the mare do, found she had no reason to. So, with the blooming confidence that you can only find in a child, she perked up and replied. “Understood!” The filly said happily, looking up at Sweetie Belle with a smile. A smile that Sweetie Belle didn’t return. But not for lack of trying. “Good. So keep on it. I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’re a bright kid.” Sweetie Belle moved towards her body again and as she was almost there she gave one more glance backwards. The filly was waving to her, knowing that when the spell ended Sweetie wouldn’t be able to see her. Sweetie Belle gave her a simple wave back before she ended the spell and reunited with the motionless body that waited for her. When Sweetie regained consciousness her legs were asleep, but she pushed past it. She gasped inwardly to fill her near empty lungs. She rose from her limp state and looked across the counter at the coffee machine. She felt a strange regret for it, all the drops of coffee felt wasted now, exhausted as she was after her foray. Fatigue lingered in her bones and aches complained until Sweetie gave in to the tempting idea of a nap. She decided that she’d put off her chores for a day and made a mental note of each one she’d have to do on the morrow, from finally shampooing her hair to giving Twilight her condolences. She maneuvered her way up the stairs, her limbs still not fully awake, and she found her way into the comforting folds of her bed. Magic that hadn’t been ignited in years woke up in the wood. Magic that Sweetie hadn’t thought necessary until her unwelcome visitors had started arriving. Lines lit up along the doorway, a physical barrier to protect her body. A strange pattern etched in the ceiling began to glow a soft blue, a barrier against the magic of any who sought her harm. Swirls traced their way across the floor, shining dimly through the rug and casting an eerie upward glow, protections against the realms beyond hers. And it took all of these before Sweetie Belle felt secure in her home.   And it took all of these before she fell asleep, the only place that was hers. The only place where not even the princesses could visit. Not while she was in this bed. Not while she was home.