Spike sat and looked out of the window of the old boutique. The glass was still coated with frost from the chill winter air, which the fireplace behind him did its best to combat. The moonlight filtered down onto the streets of Ponyville through the thin clouds above, but there was little but the empty streets to illuminate.
Ponies were always indoors earlier during the winter months, sometimes even before the sun went down. Spike didn't mind much though. The view was perfect with the glimmering jewels of Canterlot and Cloudsdale far-off in the distance, although they were hard to spot without a trained eye or telescope. He didn't leave often either, even after Rarity had the doors modified to accommodate his increased size. He had all he needed inside, with her.
“Spike.” He could hear Rarity’s voice coming from the bedroom. It still sounded as sweet as the day they had first met. “Are you going to come to bed now? You know you can't stay up looking out there forever.”
Spike turned away from the window, catching a short glimpse of the vacant library far down the street, obscured by a few buildings. It wasn't but a few years ago that he could see it clearly down the road, bright and shimmering, sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. Twilight had not lost that quality with age. No one had really changed that much though, at least while they were around Spike.
Spike tried to hold back a sigh as he walked towards the door of Rarity's workroom. “I know, but I still like to look out and hope everypony else is looking back.” He placed another log into the fireplace before leaving the room, keeping the door ajar behind him.
“I'm sure they are, Spike, but you know we could move to Canterlot and you'd be able to see them up close more often. We still have the other house after all.”
Spike took his time getting to the bedroom, making sure that the other rooms were empty and that the lights were out. “You know I don't want to leave this place abandoned like the library. We have to stay.” He closed each of the doors along the way, and before long he arrived at the bedroom. It was a bit more spacious than when he'd arrived, like most of the rooms, but it wasn't going to be long before that extra work wouldn't be enough to let him stay.
“You can't hold onto it forever, Spike. We all have to move on sooner or later. You just have to keep your chin up and your chest out, no matter what happens.”
Spike walked around the room slowly, blowing the candles out one by one before he stood over the empty bed. Laying on its undisturbed covers was a silver locket with three gems around a dragon etched on its front. Spike picked it up delicately between his claws and opened the locket. Inside was a brilliant sapphire with an old photograph of Rarity underneath, and on the other side of the locket was Spike’s picture, covered by a ruby.
Spike closed the locket and clutched it in his claws as he crawled to the foot of the bed and curled up on the floor. He sighed as he felt the warmth of the fireplace drifting slowly into the room, soothing the bitter pain in his chest as he read the inscription on the back of the locket:
Spike, For when I, or you, go. Love always, Rarity
When I woke up in the dark, the only thing I could make out was a sliver of moonlight, peeking through the curtains and reflected off of the dresser mirror. My heart began to calm, the afterimages of some nightmare fading from my mind as I kept my eyes focused on the moonlight. Slowly, they began to adjust to the dark, and the other features of the room came into focus: the wall, the bedside table, the dresser and the doorway next to it.
I shifted under the covers, and rolled to lay on my back. While I shifted my hooves about, I looked up at the ceiling, and watched the hanging lamp shift slightly in the dark. The creaking began to reach my ears, along with the faint shifting of the boutique in the night. What had I been dreaming to wake me with… not a start, but in a panic? I let one hoof rest over my heart, breathing slowly as the hammering faded.
Closing my eyes, I tried to remember. There was screaming, panting, running, or at least the impressions of them. A feeling of being watched, or perhaps chased? Nothing else came to mind. It had slipped from memory so quickly, like a seam if the thread were pulled just right, or wrong, depending on the intention.
My throat felt dry, and even though my panic had passed, sleep seemed like a distant goal. Instead of laying there for who knows how long, I took my chances and pulled the covers back before sliding out of bed. A glass of cool water couldn’t hurt.
As soon as my hooves were on the ground, I found the doorway and made my way over. Even if the shape were easy to discern in the dark, I didn’t want to risk stumbling over something. Soon, I reached the door and opened it.
The hallway felt cold. Unreasonably so, given that I’d left the heater on downstairs. It had been giving me some trouble over the past month. The thought entered my mind that it had given out in the night, letting the autumn air seep through the walls. But then I heard the sound of wind, and a… cricket? I wasn’t unaccustomed to hearing them when burning the midnight oil, but they were never this loud with the windows shut.
The noises were coming from downstairs. Had I forgotten to shut one of the windows? It was a bit stuffy earlier in the day, and the showroom needed a little bit of air, but I could swear I’d shut them. I stood there in the hallway for a few moments, before sighing and making my way to the stairs. There was water downstairs as well, at least.
The trip downstairs was slow in the dark, one hoof at a time, with only a bit of light from my horn to guide me. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could hear the rustling of fabric. One of the windows was certainly open if the curtains were moving that much.
I made my way to the kitchen first, the noise growing distant, and trotted over to the sink. The light was a bit better here, moonlight pouring in from the windows. It was enough for me to cancel the light spell, and I calmly filled a glass. In the moments between turning off the faucet and taking a sip, I had the strangest recollection.
I remembered my routine before bed a bit more clearly, along with the day. Business had been a bit under expectations. I was feeling rather down, a few dresses going unpurchased when I was sure I knew the right ones for my clients. Then I’d managed to injure myself during sewing. It was a harmless thing in the end, really, just a prick on my cheek when I’d been distracted. It hardly even hurt, but it had blemished my complexion.
My mood was sour. I just wanted to forget the entire day and go to bed. On my way into my bedroom, cleaning my face, I’d tossed the towel over the dresser mirror. I remember it blocked the entire thing.
I kept still. I swallowed the water in my mouth, and set the glass down gently on the counter. The air was still, and the boutique was quiet. Deathly quiet. Then, there was a creak on the stairwell.
I did the only thing I could. I ran to the back door in the kitchen and threw it open. I galloped out into the streets, screaming. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but I couldn’t be blamed.
Twilight managed to come quickly. I’ll admit my explanation was a little less than helpful. There was a lot of rambling about stairs and a mirror as I waved frantically at the boutique. She waited until someone else came out to check on me so that Spike didn’t have to watch me alone.
It took her some time to come back. She said that there was nopony inside, but she did find something. It was a kitchen knife, at the base of the stairs. It was one of mine.
I asked to stay with Twilight for the night, and she agreed. It took me more time than I realized or dared to get to sleep. I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew I had locked my windows.
In the morning as I approached the boutique, my eyes were drawn to the large entrance door, and then to the curtains swaying just inside of the window to its left. Beneath the windowsill, a patch of the flower bed was trampled.
It took some time to steel myself and approach the window. It was open only barely, imperceptibly so from afar. The lock was undamaged, and unlatched.
The village of Hollow Shades was desolate. That had been Vibrant Plume’s first impression, and also her last.
Her trip from Cloudsdale to Fillydelphia had been waylaid by a large storm front, much too difficult for the inexperienced flier to navigate. Thankfully, a break in the cloud cover let her escape the deafening gales, cracking thunder and pounding rain by diving towards a series of caves in a nearby mountain.
There, in the darkness and cold, with nothing but rain and thunder and storm assailing her ears, she saw a light in the distance. It was enough to give her hope and resolve, even as it seemed close to twinkling out of being amidst the storm.
When the weather finally lessened—from storm to shower—she made her way outside. In the dead of night, amidst the darkness of the storm clouds, she could more clearly see the glow in the distance. The wind was gentler now, and so she took off and glided down to its source.
As she approached, buildings came into focus. None were lit, except for one: a three story structure with candles shining in the highest window. The rest of the streets were deserted, and she saw a signpost on the road: “Welcome to Hollow Shades.”
She ignored the empty buildings and streets, making her way to the building. There was no sign on it that might have made it an inn or shop, and there wasn’t even a mailbox standing outside. Approaching the door, Vibrant Plume knocked gently, and it slowly creaked open on rusted hinges.
“Hello?” she called out into the darkness, and was greeted by nothing more than the echoes of rain against the roof. She ignored the dusty floors and unused furniture, focusing instead on the stairwell. With gentle flaps of her wings, she ascended to the second floor and called out louder, “Hello?!”
As soon as she reached the second floor, she was hit by a chill. She dropped to the landing, wings wrapping about her barrel. While the storm had been cold, and the rain made it none the easier to shake on her fly down from the mountain, this was entirely different. It felt frigid, as if the heat were forcefully sapped from every inch of her body, making every step slower and stilted. Even more troubling, was that she had felt a gust of wind coming from a doorway on the landing.
She took a moment to steel herself, just as she had in the cave. The light, hope itself, filled her thoughts, and some of the chill managed to fade from her body. Step by step she approached the open doorway, and the air became still once more. The scents of mildew and rot filled her nostrils, and she heard a floorboard beneath her crackle with her steps. Lifting into the air once more, she passed through the doorway.
The room was filled with light, filtering down through an opening in the ceiling. A ladder, half of its steps worn or broken, was framed perfectly, inviting her to ascend. She flew up and forward to the opening. “Hello?” she called out once again, and this time she had an answer.
“Visitors?” the voice asked, old and brittle and cold. “It’s been oh so long since I’ve had a visitor.”
Vibrant Plume felt the warmth of hope fill her once more, and she smiled. “I saw your candles, while hiding from the storm up on the mountain. I just had to come down, to see where that light came from. To thank you. I was worried I’d be stuck up there for far too long.” With every flap of her wings, she neared the opening.
“I’m so glad I could bring you some hope amidst that violent storm. Hollow Shades has been so… empty for so long.”
As Vibrant Plume ascended to the third floor, she saw a series of candles sitting on the windowsill, and a cloaked figure sitting in an old chair. It rocked back and forth, and for a moment she wondered why such a loud creak had never reached her ears.
“What’s your name, young one?”
“Vibrant Plume,” she said, landing on the floor just beside the opening. The floor creaked and cracked beneath her weight, as if it could snap at any moment.
“Such a lovely name. Come closer so I can see you better, dear.”
As Vibrant Plume approached the figure, her eyes drifted to the window. She looked out over the once empty streets of Hollow Shades. There were hundreds of ponies standing amidst the broken houses, staring up at the window, at the candlelight and at her. She froze, and the chill returned to her body. Their vacant eyes bored into her, and she felt alone amongst them.
A great howling, like the wind of the storm, filled the room, and the door to the floor below slammed shut.
I kept my focus on the tunnel walls, ignoring Roan's complaints. We'd found the caves the day before, hidden by heavy foliage in the forest. It hadn't taken long to notice the support beams, hopefully set by pony hooves.
In the dim light of my lantern, I could just make out toolmarks. "Not if you don't look closely," I replied, ushering him over.
With his lantern, the marks were much easier to see. He rubbed a hoof over them. "A mine? Dug out, probably." The floor glittered in the light as Roan started to walk away.
He was right, and yet there had been no signs or supplies. Could it have been abandoned and picked clean? Was it older than I thought? We followed the tunnel into an open cavern, down another tunnel, past forks and into other caverns that held yet more tunnels. I tried to leave a trail while taking notes.
"It's still fascinating, to see the type of materials we were looking for," I said, before my hoof caught on something and I tumbled forward. We both screamed at once.
There were corpses, two of them, but not skeletal remains or decomposing bodies. Instead, their fur had shed and their skin dehydrated as it clung to their bones. Curiosity took hold of me; they felt fragile, as if they would crumble into dust under too much pressure.
Most exciting, I regret, was that they were not earth ponies like us. One had a horn and the other curled, featherless wings.
"How long do you think they've been here?" I asked, but Roan was already tugging me away from them and back the way we had come.
"That doesn't matter!" Roan shouted, words echoing through the mines. "It's proof enough they were here, right? That this was some 'united' pony mine?" I could hear the mixture of excitement and fear in his voice.
"I-I suppose, but… they could have wandered in here, right? If they're…" I had to swallow a lump in my throat, but it did nothing to calm the knots forming in my stomach. "If they're recent, then it's not conclusive."
I looked down at the unicorn, face twisted and suspended in terror; on his haunches was a saddle bag, covered in dust and filled with holes. While Roan looked around, I bent down and opened it, pulling out what looked like a journal, covered in rot and filled with cracked and yellow pages.
The writing was hard to make out, faded in spots and with entire chunks of pages missing, but I could still find dates long before our own and around what I assumed was the middle of Princess Twilight’s rule. Here and there I saw figures and diagrams, of what I didn't know. The last entry was scrawled in hurried, heavy strokes.
"We have to bury it deep. However deep we dug, bury it deeper."
I repeated the words aloud, Roan peering over my shoulder. There was the sound of pebbles, moving beneath his hooves I thought. Then I noticed they came from ahead of us.
I shut the journal slowly, looking into the deep darkness beyond our lanterns. I felt something staring back at me, even if I saw nothing. "Roan," I whispered. He was already trying to help me stand up.
Something dislodged itself from the wall, a shower of small stones skidding along the floor. I heard bones cracking and a deep breath like a dragon's of ages past. A tendril or tongue or something slithered out from the dark and wrapped itself around the unicorn's horn before pulling it out of the light.
We turned and ran before an ear-piercing screech echoed through the tunnels. Heart pounding in my chest I galloped, turning and following any sign of the path I had left for us. Whatever followed thundered through the tunnel; I heard the breaking of stone and crunching of wooden pillars with every turn.
We were close, I knew we had to be close. I heard Roan gasp, his lantern shatter. Skidding to a stop, I turned to look back; he was just on the edge of my own light. He held onto one hind leg with his hooves. I saw red and white.
As soon as I tried to move to help him, my body froze. My mind screamed at me that if I did, I would die. I couldn't fight it, left starring at my friend and the deep, impenetrable black.
The heavy steps became slower. There was a growl and hiss, followed by what I thought for a moment was singing. It sounded like her, even though I knew she was gone.
Roan turned and looked into the black. His eyes went wide, his mouth agape in awe. And then I saw him smile and laugh. For a moment, I thought I saw the glint of a unicorn's horn, but it was gone when I blinked.
My body relaxdd and as I ran to Roan, lifted him onto my back, and then turned to run away. I kicked at every support I could find as hard as I could. When I reached the entrance, I heard them crack followed by tumbling of rocks. Dust billowed up behind us as we came out into the forest.
"Roan was never the same. He never talked about anything but the mines, and tried to run away from Maretime Bay a dozen times to go back there. Eventually he couldn't move. The doctors said his body kept atrophying, but they couldn't find a solution.
"Sunny, whatever you try to do on your own, wherever you go looking for anything, please don't go there. The map is here only to show you where never to go."
Sunny closed her father's journal, unfurling the small map she had found within. To the northwest of Maretime Bay, deep in the forests, was a circled patch of hill and rock with three words: Bury it deeper.
