Spirits of the Season
Starlight gave her chin strap a yank, and the helmet settled down onto her brow.
She flashed a grin in the mirror. Cheesy, rather like a handsome adventurer might pose for a magazine photo.
Actually… that was almost too cheesy. She shook her head clear of the blatantly phony confidence and went for a stern, focused gaze. Tight-lipped. Squinty. Like an archaeologist or a librarian or something. Sort of Daring Do-esque
“Starlight Glimmer:” she whispered, hiking her camera bag higher on her back, “Ghost Hunter.”
She smirked a bit, then tossed in a wink. This, of course, made her feel so obscenely stupid that she flushed immediately.
Rather than look herself in the eye, she returned her focus to the bag she had packed and once again pawed through its contents. Just as she was reaching for her slingshot, there was a quiet knock at the door.
“Coming!” Starlight called, quickly scooping up the bag and slinging it over her shoulder.
She zipped to the door, nothing but a streak of light, and whipped it open.
To her surprise, there was only a gaggle of school-aged foals on her step-- each of them decked out in festive hats, scarves, and boots.
“Oh.” Starlight’s excitement deflated, and a few of the rounder items in her bag spilled out onto the floor. “Carolers?” she observed astutely.
“Are you going splunk-- spellink--” one pony stuttered. The rest only looked on in confusion or slack-mouthed awe. “Splenk-- are you going cave exploring?” he asked at last, apparently tired from his enormous effort.
Starlight’s hoof flew to her helmet. “Uh… sure!” she agreed. “And, unfortunately, since I’m leaving for my big… cave mission, I can’t listen to you guys sing.”
A miniature choir of disappointed groans rose up from the gaggle of foals.
“But!” Starlight reached behind her door, feeling around for her secret weapon. “I do have some candy canes for you guys!”
Starlight brandished several candy canes in her magic, fanned out like a hoof of cards. The foals’ eyes lit up once more, and they all reached out to grab one in a chorus of appreciation.
As the group departed, Starlight turned her back to the open door, beginning to tidy up the mess she made and stuff items back into her bag. When she turned back to close the door, another figure was waiting for her.
This guest was clad in mostly dark colors, its face obscured by darkness.
Starlight yelped in surprise.
The figure yelped back.
Starlight flicked on her headlamp, illuminating the figure’s face. Though he was wearing night-vision goggles, his distinctive scraggly beard was still easily recognized.
“Sunburst!” Starlight breathed a sigh of relief. “Celestia, you scared me!”
Sunburst lifted his goggles, leaving the shadow of spectacles on his face. “I’m sorry! Your door was open, so I just…” He trailed off, looking down at the menagerie that had spilled out of Starlight’s bag. “You’re bringing a tarot deck?”
Starlight looked down at the deck of cards. “Uh… yeah.”
“Why?” Sunburst asked, holding back a chuckle.
“I dunno,” Starlight said with a shrug. “I had one.”
“I’ll be sure to let you know if the opportunity arises to read the ghosts’ fortunes.” Sunburst rolled his eyes, though he seemed somewhat amused by the idea. “Are you ready to go?”
Starlight zipped her bag shut and placed it deliberately over her back. “Ready.”
“So:” Starlight nudged her companion in the ribs. “What’d you tell your mom you were doing this year?”
Sunburst reached up to scratch the back of his head. “Oh, same as always. End of the semester, papers to finish, grant proposals to finalize…” Sunburst chuckled lightly. “She pretty much expects it at this point.”
Starlight nodded.
“What about you?” Sunburst smirked a little. “What’s daddy’s little pumky-wumpkin stuck doing on Hearth’s Warming Eve?”
Starlight clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Friendship problem,” she said. “But I’ll definitely have to think of something different the next time I need an excuse-- that one’s been coming up a lot lately.”
Sunburst seemed to consider this. “Yeah. Or we could… go home for Hearth’s Warming Eve?” he suggested carefully.
The pair continued to walk in silence for a moment. Then, as if on cue, the two of them exploded in raucous laughter. The sound echoed through the cold, empty streets of old Ponyville, doubling back on the lone ponies in an almost eerie sort of way.
“Hearth’s Warming is enough on its own,” Starlight commented, wiping a tear from her eye. “If I had to spend more than a day with my dad-- holy horseapples. I’d lose it. All he talks about is the founding of Equestria, and the old kingdom of Unicornia… I swear, he has those old stories memorized completely. It takes him hours to get through them all. He practically straps me into an armchair for the whole thing.”
“Tell me about it. My mom gets so crazy about the holidays,” Sunburst added. “Always making these gigantic lists, and micromanaging every little thing. I know how to read a recipe! I know how to wrap a present! I spend all day, every day writing and performing complex spells and rituals-- I can handle sugar cookies!”
“Tsk, you would complain about that,” Starlight snarked, giving her friend a light punch on the shoulder.
Sunburst scoffed. “I just have standards.”
“Speaking of standards,” Starlight said, rolling her eyes, “I still can’t believe I talked you into a ghost hunt. I thought you’d never agree to something like this.”
Sunburst held his head high, beard jutting out in front of him. “I’m not afraid of things that aren’t real, Starlight. Simple as that.” He snorted haughtily.
“The dark is pretty real, though,” Starlight teased. “So are spiders. Lots of spiders in old houses.”
“Don’t make me change my mind,” Sunburst muttered through his teeth.
Starlight chuckled to herself.
Spending time in vacant places had a strange familiarity to Starlight-- assuming Sunburst was there, of course. This had become something of a holiday tradition for the two of them, though they’d hate to call it that.
It wasn’t that they disliked their parents. Or that they disliked Hearth’s Warming, really. It was more the combination of many things, all snowballing together into an incredibly stressful time of year. For the month leading up to Hearth’s Warming, “The Holidays” was like a full-time job-- especially for the children of such motivated ponies.
But, with just the two of them, it was never stressful. They were totally on the same page, and fantastic at concocting lies to shave down the Hearth’s Warming season to its barest minimum.
The best part, undeniably, was the free time. Starlight and Sunburst had spent Hearth’s Warming Eves lounging on the beach, solving escape rooms-- even going treasure hunting (though they turned up very little). There were no lines, no annoying foals, and no interruptions.
In other words: perfection.
“So…” Sunburst cleared his throat. “We’ve established there’s no such thing as ghosts.”
“Sure, Sunny,” Starlight said. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
“What exactly makes this place so ‘haunted’?” Sunburst asked, being sure to air-quote forcefully in Starlight’s direction. “Out of curiosity. And because I’m sure you’d tell me anyway.”
Starlight grinned. “Ooh, that’s the best part:” she said, “the ponies who used to live there died on Hearth’s Warming Eve.”
“Of course they did.” Sunburst shook his head, but couldn’t hide his smile.
“They say that the spirits of Holly and Pine become especially agitated this time of year,” Starlight continued, utterly unphased. “They never got to celebrate their last Hearth’s Warming, and they always fight to return to the realm of the living for one final celebration.”
Sunburst cast Starlight a skeptical look. “That’s the dumbest ghost story I’ve ever heard.”
“I know!” Starlight agreed, taking a giddy half-skip to prove her excitement. “It’s even holiday-themed! Right here in Ponyville!”
“Was ‘haunted holiday stakeout’ on your bucket list or something?” Sunburst asked. “You’re way too excited about this.”
Starlight shrugged, still smiling to herself. “I dunno. I think ghost hunting is a cool job.”
Sunburst scoffed. “There’s a reason you don’t see ponies with ghost-hunting cutie marks outside of comic books,” he said.
“Oh, stop being so negative.” Starlight dismissed her friend’s concerns with a wave of her hoof. “I didn’t invite you along to be all skeptical.”
“You didn’t?”
Starlight clucked her tongue. “No way! You’re here to be my equine shield in case something goes wrong.”
Sunburst gulped audibly. “I-if I was scared of ghosts, that would be concerning,” he said diplomatically. “But I’m not. So it isn’t.”
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Sunny…” Starlight muttered. Her focus was no longer on the conversation, however; instead, she was reading the numbers on each rotting building. “Seventeen… Nineteen… Twenty-one!”
Starlight stopped short. Sunburst very nearly crashed into her, but managed to steer around her at the last moment.
The house was old. That was a given-- this was Old Ponyville, after all. But this was the sort of old that really sagged and rotted and sighed. The kind of old which meant peeling paint and windows frosted with dust and floorboards turning to powder under your hooves.
It wasn’t particularly large. In fact, it may have even been on the smaller side of houses in the modern part of Ponyville. Definitely a home fit for a family, but not much room to spare.
“This is the house?” Sunburst asked, grimacing.
Starlight frowned. “You don’t sound impressed.”
“I thought it was going to be a… I dunno, a mansion or something!”
“Are there mansions in Ponyville?”
“Yes!” Sunburst shouted. “I mean… no? I dunno, I don’t live here!”
Starlight giggled. “Boy, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were scared.”
“I am not!” Sunburst stomped one hoof, though his face was already beginning to flush a deep red-orange.
Starlight continued snickering, but flicked on her headlamp. “C’mon, fraidy-cat,” she said, taking a few steps forward and propping open the front gate. “Those ghosts aren’t gonna hunt themselves.”
“Do you even have anything in that bag that would get rid of a ghost?” Sunburst said, jabbing a hoof at Starlight’s saddle bag. “Hypothetically, of course.”
Starlight rolled her eyes. “Should we encounter a violent spirit, I’m prepared.”
Sunburst cleared his throat. “With what, though?” he mumbled.
“Sunny!” Starlight laughed, giving her friend a playful jab in the ribs. “Admit it: you’re scared!”
“And you’re unprepared!” Sunburst shot back.
Starlight shook her head, chuckling all the while. “I have a slingshot.”
“A slingshot?” Sunburst scoffed. “That’s it?”
“A salt-pellet slingshot!” Starlight explained. “Salt scares away ghosts. It’s in all the books.”
“Tsk, yeah, right…” Sunburst shook his head, marching ahead of Starlight and up the front walk.
“It’s true!” Starlight shouted, still laughing. “All the ghost hunting books said salt and iron! I swear!”
“Who even says they need to be hunted?” Sunburst was muttering as he wandered up the sidewalk. He slid his night vision goggles back down over his eyes as he went. “I mean, what if they’re perfectly friendly? What then?”
“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” Starlight said.
She trotted through the gate and allowed it to drop shut behind her. It smacked against the picket fence with a loud, dry clat!
This, of course, caused Sunburst to leap into the air like a frightened cat, pointing his charged horn at the offending bit of landscaping.
“Easy, Sunny,” Starlight said, giving him a not-at-all comforting pat on the shoulder. “Easy.”
Sunburst quickly shook off the mishap and fell in step beside Starlight once more.
As the pair approached the house, Starlight’s lamp sweeping back and forth over the crumbling exterior, it almost seemed to tense up. Nothing that could be explained in the five senses-- just a feeling. As if the building itself had taken a sharp breath in.
They paused, waiting for the building’s inevitable sigh.
None came.
“Keep going?” Starlight asked.
“Uh…” Sunburst seemed to be chewing on his lip. “Keep going.”
And so they advanced.
The front steps were a feat of pony engineering. Despite the state of the wood--dry, rotted, warped, and practically wailing under their hooves--the stairs held together. Sunburst swore he could feel the nails buckling under their weight, and yet they held firm.
At last, they made it up onto the concrete porch and let out identical sighs of relief.
The front door had once been screened, but was now torn and hanging open like a ragged pair of overalls. Beyond that, a heavier wood door stood open and inviting.
“Isn’t this technically trespassing?” Sunburst suddenly blurted out. “Or-- or breaking and entering?”
“Foals do this every year, Sunburst,” Starlight said, taking another uneasy step forward.
Sunburst looked back over his shoulder in one direction, then in the other. “Not this year, though?”
“Shush!” Starlight hissed.
She was peering directly into the house, now. Her head was poked past the torn screen, and her headlamp now illuminated the nearly-bare interior.
It looked… normal. Like a normal house, just with less furniture. And more spiders.
Starlight silently waved Sunburst forward. He scuttled across the porch one the very tips of his hooves, striving to make as little sound as possible, and jammed his head into the ton screen, cheek-to-cheek with Starlight.
“What do your…” Sunburst paused. “Er, what do your instruments say?”
“Oh, right!” Starlight reached into her bag and withdrew a small box with a little radar dish on it. It looked not unlike a hoof-held calculator.
“And that is?” Sunburst asked, poking one hoof at the device.
“An EMF meter. Hush.” Starlight held the object in front of her, sweeping the dish back and forth across the room. It made a low, warbling whine.
“EMF?”
“Electromagnetic frequency!” Starlight spat back. “Now, be quiet!”
Starlight continued to point the device around the room, checking each nook and cranny for… magnets, Sunburst supposed. He wasn’t exactly up to date on ghost-hunting lingo.
“Okay.” Starlight turned the device off and tucked it back in her bag. “Coast is clear.”
The pair took a few steps back and slowly, carefully, opened the screen door.
Almost immediately, there was a great rush of cold wind. The sort of wind that chills you right down to your bones in only an instant. It blew right over and through the ponies on the stoop, as if pulling them into the house beyond. As if the house were breathing in.
Starlight and Sunburst went entirely stiff in terrified anticipation.
“Ooh-- Pine, dear!” called an elderly, feminine voice. “Carolers!”
The wind seemed to grow more and more solid, almost like mist or fog, before finally settling into a shape that was almost pony-like.
No, no. Very pony-like.
The mist’s eyes leapt open within the cloud of blue mist. She was smiling in a bright and matronly way and-- was she wearing a frilly apron? With polka dots?
“Carolers?” This voice, while also old and feminine, had a sharper tone. “Invite them in for cocoa!”
Much in the way that Holly had formed from the wind itself, Pine also sprang to life in the entryway. She was wearing a small pair of half-moon spectacles, and looking similarly jolly.
“Oh, lovely idea, Pine!” Holly agreed, smiling warmly. “Won’t you two come in?”
Starlight blinked. “Uh--”
Before she could reply, however, the wind howled past her once more. This time, it sucked Starlight and Sunburst into the building like water up a straw.
The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them.
Starlight and Sunburst were deposited onto the floor of the old house, rolling some distance over the floorboards from sheer momentum.
“Goodness!” Holly put a hoof to her mouth. “Slow down, there!”
Sunburst slammed into the bottommost step of the central staircase, which knocked every last bit of wind out of him.
Pine wandered silently towards him and offered up a hoof. “You alright, darling?”
Sunburst cringed away from Pine’s ghostly hoof.
Starlight leapt to her hooves, her headlamp shining straight through the ghosts and sending yellow light bouncing in every direction. “Don’t you touch him, ghost!” she shouted, though it didn’t sound nearly as tough as it had in her head. “Or I’ll… I’ll--”
“Oh, be a dear and put that light out, would you?” Holly asked sweetly.
Starlight paused.
The two ghosts--and they were most definitely ghosts-- seemed to be shielding their eyes from the light of Starlight’s headlamp, like a vampire might shield their skin from the sun.
“I don’t think so!” Starlight spat back, waggling her head back and forth in a display of foalish power. “You back away from my friend, or I’ll give you a good-- a good shine!”
Holly made a sour face, evidently not impressed by Starlight’s quipping ability.
Pine, however, did as she was asked and took a few steps away from Sunburst.
“Y-yeah! That’s right!” Starlight took another leap or two forward, confidence building. “Now, you two stay right there!”
Sunburst was still laying on the floor in the fetal position. His goggles had come off his head in the fall, and slid across the hall in the opposite direction. He had his hooves over his eyes.
Starlight skittered to his side and began to shake him. “Sunburst! Sunburst, get up!” she hissed.
“No such thing as ghosts,” he was muttering, over and over. “No such thing as ghosts.”
“C’mon, Sunburst!” Starlight looked back up at the ghostly figures by the door, as if waiting for one to pounce. “We gotta go!”
“Oh, but you’re welcome to stay!” Holly interjected.
“No way!” Starlight shot back.
As Starlight continued trying to haul Sunburst to his hooves, the two ghostly ponies exchanged baleful looks. They paused, then nodded in unison.
"We'd love it if you stayed," Pine said, taking a few steps forward. "Really and truly."
"We could bake cookies and sing carols and tell all the old stories," Holly continued, falling into step with her cohort. "Doesn't that sound lovely?"
As a last resort, Starlight used her magic to haul Sunburst up off the floor.
"No, thank you!" Starlight said, her voice strangled with the effort of dragging a full-grown stallion through the house. "We'll just be going, now!"
"Oh, no!" Holly put a hoof to her lips. "Stay! We'll get your friend all patched up, won't we, dear?"
"We certainly will," Pine agreed.
The wind began to pick up again.
In fact, it was like another deep breath, threatening to draw Starlight and Sunburst into the depths of the house.
Try as she might, Starlight couldn’t gain even one more inch walking into that otherworldly gale. Eventually, her hoof slipped, and she found herself careening backwards, accompanied by a rather worse-for-wear Sunburst.
The two ponies went flying through the old house, tumbling head-over-hooves, at last being thrown into two little wooden chairs. Although it took Starlight a moment to refocus her eyes, she recognized the room as an old, forgotten kitchen.
The wind also cleverly repositioned the kitchen table, which had been upturned and discarded at the side of the room. It slid all the way up to the ponies' chests, locking them in like a seatbelt.
Starlight strained to stand up, yet found that she was somehow paralyzed. "Sunburst!" she yelled in her friend's direction. "Sunburst, c'mon!"
"I-I…" Sunburst blinked a few times, his jaw slack.
"Are you alright?!" Starlight asked, straining even harder against the strange force which held her still.
Sunburst blinked once more, then shook his head to clear out all the confusion. "Oh, gosh… you don't have that slingshot, do you?" he asked softly.
Starlight hung her head in defeat.
Taking that as an emphatic ‘no’, Sunburst began to thrash against the invisible force holding him in place.
At that, Holly and Pine entered the kitchen. They had a strange way of moving-- half trotting along the floor, half swimming through the air.
"We apologise for being so forward," Holly said, beginning to rummage through the cupboards. "Just-- oh, it's been so long since our little nest had anypony else in it!"
"It’s hard not having foals in the house anymore" Pine continued, lining up mugs along the counter. “And it’s just so wonderful whenever a few wander by.”
Sunburst scoffed. "We're not foals."
"Sunny!" Starlight scolded him softly.
"Well, foals or not, everypony loves hot cocoa!" Holly sang, waving an ancient bottle of fine cocoa powder in the air. "Now, it's a fair bit out of date, but I'm sure we can make do."
Pine leaned over and blew on the bottle, sending up a great cloud of dust. Sunburst immediately let loose with an enormous sneeze.
"Gesundheit," Pine said, with a gracious nod and a small smile.
Starlight gave up her struggle against her invisible restraints. "Um-- we have places to be, actually!" she reminded the ghosts. "It's Hearth's Warming Eve!"
"That's right!" Pine laughed. "It's Hearth's Warming Eve, and you're in our home."
"It's perfectly alright, darlings," Holly added, delicately unscrewing the rusted cap of the cocoa powder. "Not everypony has parents to visit for the holidays. We understand completely.
“And not every parent has foals to visit them anymore!” Holly added. “That makes us the perfect match!"
The ghostly ponies turned their backs to Starlight and Sunburst, and began fussing over the mugs of cocoa. Celestia only knows what they planned to use for milk.
Starlight bit down on her lower lip and leaned as far as she could in Sunburst's direction.
"I can see my saddle bag in the hall," she whispered, nodding
Sunburst squinted into the darkness. "I can't, I don't have my night vision goggles anymore!" he hissed back.
"You don't need your--!" Starlight stopped herself from shouting, took a deep breath, and let out a steady exhale. "Do you think I can use my magic to grab it and drag it in here?"
"Oh!" Sunburst's eyes lit up. "Good idea!"
Starlight nodded urgently, then focused on the amorphous shape of the saddle bag in the hall.
She lit her horn.
Without hesitation, Pine whirled to look at her. "What are you doing?" she asked accusingly.
Starlight slinked owlishly. "Uh…" Her eyes danced around the room, searching for a suitable excuse and finally landing on the refrigerator. "G-getting milk! For the cocoa!"
Pine's glare of suspicion held fast a moment longer, then softened. "That's very kind of you. What a nice young mare you are."
Starlight smiled nervously.
She lit her horn again, this time reaching out in two distinct directions: one tendril of magic tugged open the old refrigerator, and another began dragging the saddle bag down the hall. It wasn't easy to do both things at once, especially not with Starlight's heart hammering as it was, and so the saddle bag stuttered irregularly over the wooden floors.
Just her luck (or maybe not), there was only one item still resting in the old, dark fridge: a carton of two-percent milk. Starlight lifted it and felt the bottom sag significantly.
Sunburst simply closed his eyes at the sight of it. “I should’ve said no,” he was muttering, over and over. “I should’ve just said no!”
Starlight gave the carton a small shake, and felt that it was mostly solid. She debated trying to find a way to make it vanish before the ghosts got their hooves on it.
"Ah, the milk!" Holly lit her own horn and plucked the carton from Starlight's magical grip. "Excellent work, dear! It's so nice having help in the kitchen."
Starlight rolled her eyes. Sunburst suppressed a gag.
Starlight gave the saddle bag one last yank while her horn was still lit, then dutifully quieted her magic.
"We're not actually going to drink that stuff, are we?" Sunburst asked softly. "I mean, who knows how long that milk's been in there!"
The imprisoned ponies looked on in horror as Holly poured the milk into the first mug. It looked about as thick as pudding.
"Um… maybe it's turned to yogurt?" Starlight suggested.
"That's not how you make yogurt!" Sunburst shot back.
"What's that?" Pine asked, looking over her shoulder at Sunburst. "Did you say something, dear?"
Sunburst up ramrod straight. "N-no…"
Pine nodded slowly, but said nothing.
The ghost mares used their magic--little flickering flames of it--to heat each mug of cocoa, quickly filling the room with the pungent scent of chocolate and sour milk. Starlight and Sunburst wished more than anything that they had a free hoof to cover their noses.
"Ooh!" Holly turned to look at the living ponies, eyes aglow. "How about cookies? We could bake some! You two like cookies, don't you?"
The possibility of a thousand other ancient ingredients cooking together in the over--all of them uniquely rotten--made Starlight go green in the face.
"No," she said simply.
"Definitely not," Sunburst added.
Starlight shook her head. "No cookies."
"We hate cookies."
Holly and Pine laughed, their voices like a little chorus of silver bells.
"Well, alright, you two," Pine said, waving away the protestations with one hoof. "Whatever you say."
"Ta-da!" Holly whirled about, holding four mugs of cocoa in her magic. "Cocoa's ready!"
Pine smiled and took a long, deep breath. "Mm, smell that!"
Sunburst gagged again. "Oh, I'm smelling it alright…" he moaned.
Holly floated across the room and placed each mug on the kitchen table. She and Pine sat down, though not on any chairs-- they appeared to be able to hover in midair on nothing but a cushion of mist.
"Well?" Holly prompted. "Go on, try some!"
Starlight and Sunburst looked down into their mugs.
The cocoa looked… chunky.
As they stared, a bubble expanded on the surface of the nearest mug. Starlight cringed as it burst, splattering her face with the sour mush. It reminded her a little bit of swamp gas, and a little bit of toxic waste.
The ghosts paid this no mind.
Sunburst bit his lip, then lifted the mug in his shaky magic. He looked to Starlight and cleared his throat.
Starlight chuckled nervously and likewise lifted her mug. As she did so, she pulled the saddle bag ever closer, inching it through the hallway and up to the threshold.
So close, now. So close to that slingshot.
“Go on, now,” Pine urged. She held her own mug out, as if for a toast. “Drink up! Little fillies and colts love hot cocoa.”
Sunburst put the mug to his lips, yet seemed physically incapable of tilting the liquid up to meet them.
Holly and Pine leaned forward eagerly.
Starlight tipped the mug quickly and suddenly, intending to knock it back like a bit of cough syrup. To her surprise, the sludge only oozed towards her mouth, no faster than molasses.
Thinking quickly, she made a long, loud slurping sound and slammed the mug back down on the table.
Pine arched an eyebrow.
"Delicious!" Starlight said. "Right, Sunny?"
Sunburst pulled the same trick, though his upper lip quivered in fear. "Mm…" he groaned, still trying not to gag. "Yummy…"
"How about a story?" Holly said, clapping in delight. "Our little foals always loved a Hearth's Warming story."
"Lovely idea, Holly," Pine agreed with a nod. "I'll fetch the storybook."
She rose from her misty seat, which quickly dissipated, and floated away-- directly over the discarded saddle bag.
Holly watched her partner leave, then turned her wide and sparkling eyes back on the unicorns before her. "Have some more!" She gestured to the mugs. "Go on!"
Starlight and Sunburst exchanged a look.
"Eh, that's okay…"
"I think I'm full, actually…"
"Have some more!" Holly howled.
Her voice summoned the icy wind once more, blowing past Starlight and Sunburst with enormous force. The sheer bracing power of it was shock enough, but combined with Holly's abrupt attitude change, it was enough to stop their hearts.
Holly put a hoof to her mouth. "Oh. Oh, goodness." She giggled sweetly. "I'm sorry, I just-- well, you know how ponies get around the holidays!"
The living ponies still hadn't caught their breath.
Holly gasped lightly and raised a hoof in the air. "I know! Some festive outfits will get you in the holiday spirit!" She reached out, tapping each pony on the nose with her ice-cold hoof. “You two stay put, okay?”
Starlight and Sunburst watched anxiously for Holly to depart, then immediately began to struggle against the invisible restraints once more.
“Get the bag!” Sunburst hissed, throwing his head from side to side in a vain attempt at escape.
Starlight gave the saddle bag in the hallway a great magical heave, and it slid all the way under the table. She fumbled with it for a moment, feeling all over the exterior for any sign of the zipper and failing miserably.
“Hurry up!” Sunburst said through clenched teeth.
“I’m trying!” Starlight argued, juggling the bag about twice as fast.
At last, her magic closed on the metal tab. Of course, just as she was beginning to unzip it, Holly returned.
Sunburst rolled his head back and groaned softly.
“Found some!” Holly sang, brandishing undecorated wreaths and white lights in her ghostly magic. “Now, sit still.”
Sunburst could obviously do little else as the ghost balanced a wreath atop his head and looped a string of lights around his neck like a necklace.
A tiny snicker escaped Starlight. Her friend looked mad as a wet hen.
Sunburst glared at Starlight. “Not one word.”
“You, too!” Holly hummed, ripping the helmet right off of Starlight’s head without warning or finesse.
Holly tossed a second wreath onto Starlight’s head as if she were playing horseshoes. She was also deemed lucky enough to earn a string of white lights.
Starlight frowned, all but growling at her captor.
Sunburst snuck a snide grin.
“Oh, you look absolutely precious!” Holly exclaimed. She smiled down at the two of them as if they were nothing but kittens in a cardboard box.
“I’ve got the stories!”
Holly turned to watch her partner float back into the kitchen, holding up a very old bound book-- the sort that would have Twilight absolutely foaming at the mouth.
The saddle bag was right there.
Right there.
Yet just out of reach.
“Settle in, dearies!” Pine sang. She cracked open the book and placed it on the table before her, all but turning the pages to dust as she did. “It’s time for the story of the first Hearth’s Warming!”
“Once upon a time, long before the peaceful rule of Celestia, and before ponies discovered our beautiful land of Equestria, ponies did not know harmony. It was a strange and dark time. A time when ponies were torn apart... by hatred!”
As hard as Starlight was trying to reason a way out of this, she could only hear Pine’s strange and distant voice, carefully plodding through the storybook.
She had to get out of here. As soon as possible.
“During this frightful age, each of the three tribes--the Pegasi, the unicorns, and the Earth ponies--cared not for what befell the other tribes, but only for their own welfare.”
Trixie had once told Starlight about a sort of… non-magical magic. A way to channel a unicorn’s energy through something other than their horn. That could work, couldn’t it?
Had Trixie even been able to do it?
Suddenly, Starlight found herself wishing she’d paid more attention to Trixie’s sleight-of-hoof tricks. She could desperately use the help of an expert escape artist right about now.
“In those troubled times, as now, the Pegasi were the stewards of the weather. But they demanded something in return: food that could only be grown by the Earth ponies.”
Starlight cast a glance over at Sunburst, who looked suitably miserable-- even decked out in Holly’s festive gear.
It was kinda funny.
Even Starlight had to admit that.
“The unicorns demanded the same, in return for magically bringing forth day and night. And so, mistrust between the tribes festered until, one fateful day, it came to a boil.”
But they still had to get out of here.
They were ghosts, right? Ghosts are always, always, always bad news. No two ways about it. Never been a nice ghost.
Starlight looked down at the cup of hot cocoa on the table before her. Disgusting as it was, it wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Not by far. More of a hilarious side-step to her holiday plans.
But that wasn’t because the ghosts were nice. No way.
It was because Starlight had been through more than her fair share of scary monsters, and this one happened to fall on the lower end of the spectrum. A not-very-scary monster is still a monster.
Right?
“And what prompted the ponies to clash? 'Twas a mysterious blizzard that overtook the land, and toppled the tribes' precarious peace.”
Being read to also wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
Although, they had been kidnapped.
They sort of cancelled each other out.
“The normally industrious Earth ponies were unable to farm their land.”
No. Kidnapping was way worse.
Starlight lit her horn, once again pulling the cocoa deception and managing to unzip the saddle bag beneath her. Putting the cocoa-like substance near her face was enough to make her want to vomit, but she fought through the urge.
Say. Trixie had taught her that trick.
A little good, old-fashioned misdirection. Works every time.
“The Earth ponies were freezing. The home of the Pegasi fared no better: the Pegasi were hungry. And the unicorns were freezing and hungry.”
Sunburst was watching eagerly, waiting for Starlight to make her move.
Starlight, on the other hoof, still needed to get a hold of her slingshot and salt pellets. She couldn’t bear to pick up the cocoa again (and, judging by the way Holly was squinting at her, the ghosts were beginning to catch on, anyway).
Pine paused in her reading to quietly adjust her spectacles, peering down at the paper before her with a significant quint.
“Oh!” Starlight smiled demurely. “Let me light that for you, Pine.”
Before Pine could answer, the room was filled with a bright and glittering light-- all of it pouring from Starlight’s horn.
Sunburst let out a small sigh of relief.
“Mm.” Pine pushed her spectacles up a little higher. “Thank you dear.”
Starlight said nothing, only smiled innocently as she pawed through the open saddle bag.
“Where was I…?” Pine murmured, scanning the page. “Oh, yes. Even the unicorns' magic was powerless against the storm.”
Starlight’s magical grip fell upon the slingshot.
“Each tribe blamed the others for their suffering, and the angrier everypony grew, the worse the blizzard became.”
The pellets!
“And so it was decided--”
Starlight carefully, quietly, loaded a salt pellet into her slingshot.
“--that a grand summit would be held to figure out a way to cope with the blizzard.”
It was over before Sunburst could even blink.
Starlight whipped out the slingshot, aimed it at Pine’s head, and fired.
The mist dissipated.
Holly turned to Starlight. “Now, that was very rude!”
But Starlight was already locked and loaded-- another quick shot, and there went Holly, too.
The mist settled slowly back down to the floor, seeping between the wooden boards and into the bowels of the house. As it did, Starlight and Sunburst felt their invisible restraints loosen, then disappear completely.
The two ponies let out a long sigh of relief.
Now that the house was empty, it hardly felt scary anymore.
Then again…
“Starlight?” Sunburst asked softly.
“Mm-hm?”
“You said salt scares away ghosts, right?”
Starlight nodded. “Weren’t you watching?”
“But…” Sunburst looked down at the floor. “That means they could come back… right?”
Starlight looked at Sunburst.
Sunburst looked back at Starlight.
The house started to inhale once more.
“Run!” Starlight shouted, already off like a shot.
Sunburst wasn’t far behind, though he was much less graceful.
The two ponies just barely managed to scoop up all of their discarded belongings as they galloped out into the street, hearts pounding, breath hitching.
As their hooves met the packed-earth road, Starlight and Sunburst heard a mighty howl from behind them. For a moment, the old house lit up blue-- then, at last, the light faded.
They stared for a moment.
Sunburst was the first to laugh.
Starlight gave him a funny look. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing…” Sunburst said, wiping away a tear. “Just-- even the ghosts want us to celebrate Hearth’s Warming! Talk about situational irony.”
Starlight frowned.
Sunburst coughed. “Right? Situational irony?” he repeated. “You get it, right?”
“Hey…” Starlight turned to look at her friend, suddenly very serious. “Did those two… remind you of anypony?”
Sunburst cocked his head. “Uh… no?” he replied, evidently uncertain. “Why? Did they remind you of somepony?”
“Two parents who want to celebrate the holidays with their foals so bad that they practically imprison them in their house? And torture them with holiday activities?” Starlight reiterated. “That doesn’t sound familiar at all?”
Sunburst seemed to consider that. Realization quickly dawned, and his face fell. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Starlight sucked in a breath through her teeth and kicked idly at the dirt.
The two ponies stood in silence. The night was starting to feel very cold all of a sudden.
“I… kinda feel bad about the slingshot, now,” Sunburst admitted.
Starlight sighed. “We shouldn’t.”
Sunburst frowned.
“Should we?”
“I don’t know,” Sunburst said. “I feel like I’ve lost track.”
“We have to do something, right?” Starlight asked. “I’m trying to think of what Twilight would do, and I honestly can’t even imagine Twilight in this situation. At all.”
Sunburst laughed wryly. “Well, we can’t go back inside.”
“Definitely not,” Starlight agreed.
“What kind of radius do ghosts even have?” Sunburst asked, and not to anypony in particular. “Are we safe here? Is the front walk safe? The porch?”
“We could sing some carols!” Starlight suggested.
Sunburst shook his head. “I-I have a terrible singing voice. And I don’t do well under pressure like that.”
“We could…” Starlight tapped her chin with one hoof. “We could put some presents down the chimney! That’s festive, right?”
“I’m not buying presents for a ghost!” Sunburst yelled. The sound echoed up and down the empty street.
“Cookies!” Starlight suggested, smiling brightly. “We could float some cookies over onto the porch!”
Sunburst blinked. “Can ghosts eat?”
Starlight smacked her forehead with one hoof. “You’re killin’ me, Sunny.”
“I’m just asking!”
“Well, do you have a better idea?” Starlight demanding, stomping one hoof in the dirt.
Sunburst scrunched up his face. “Well-- no!” he replied, far too confident in his answer.
Starlight glared at him.
“Fine!” he relented. “We’ll leave them some cookies.”
“Perfect!” Starlight smiled. “I think Sugar Cube Corner is still open this time of night. Let’s swing by and pick up some last-minute Hearth’s Warming cookies.”
Sunburst sighed, a weary and broken sound. “Sure. Great.”
The two tired ponies made their slow way back to town.They spoke very little as they did. This wasn’t for lack of things to say, of course, but more from the over-abundance of thoughts clouding their minds as they went.
As they neared the first few decorated buildings of modern Ponyville, Sunburst spoke up:
“I do kinda miss baking with my mom,” he said. “If I’m honest.”
Starlight smiled a little. “I know what you mean,” she said. “Hearing Pine’s story made me miss hearing my dad read it.”
Sunburst chuckled lightly.
“Is that weird?” Starlight asked.
“Nah,” Sunburst said, shaking his head. “Not weird at all.”
There was a long pause.
“Y’know, I think there’s a late train to Sire’s Hollow,” Starlight said. “I-if you felt like going home a little early. Maybe we could… go together?”
Sunburst smiled. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
The next morning, a small box of fresh-baked sugar cookies would find its way into the porch of the old house. The house would take a long, deep breath, and the cookies would vanish into the mail slot, leaving behind the barest wisps of freezing wind and the delicate sound of jolly laughter.
Even now, many years later, Holly and Pine awake on Hearth’s Warming to offerings of holiday cheer and festive well-wishes on their front porch.
Every holiday tradition has to start somewhere, right?