deep in the Everfree Forest

Snow Star had never been to the Everfree Forest before. 

Truthfully, the majority of Ponyville had never dared venture into the Everfree Forest, period, repelled both by the timberwolves lurking in its depths and, if it was true, the latent magic of a terrible, terrible beast. 

But, well…

That was a thing of the past. Or the present, all things considered. 

When she’d left for school that morning, her mother asked her if she’d slept well. The teen nodded, saying she had, which was a lie, of course. She hadn’t slept a wink, the entire night thinking and thinking and thinking of the Everfree Forest and what lay beyond the trees, the wolves, and underground. 

A rule had been put in place ever since… Well… 

Anyway.  

Only adults could enter the forest, and though she certainly felt like an adult—she’d aced every single test, and routinely babysat foals—nopony that mattered considered her an adult. 

But this was her home. This was where she lived, not just Ponyville but the country beyond, this was her home.

Didn’t she have a right to see it for herself, all things considered? 

“Have fun!” her mother said when she waved her off. 

Her mother’s smile was there, genuine at first, but faltering slightly as it lingered, just like with the rest of the adults, and even Snow Star’s friends when they met to talk about it. 

“Be safe,” her mother added. “Okay?”

Snow Star smiled back. “I will!”

Thus she set off, the saddlebags slung on her back a charade, empty of any books she needed for school, but full of ones that mattered to her. Her favorite books that she’d owned since she was small.

She trotted and trotted, the sun only just rising over the horizon, and it wasn’t until she was sure she was out of sight that she turned left, away from the path leading to school. 

She wanted to be the first, if she could even be the first, but being first meant she had a chance to go if she asked politely. 

The path stretching before her, she thought of the earthquake from years ago. Of the voice that had blared out through the town from everywhere and nowhere at once. 

“Hello, hello, Po-ny-ville! It seems that, for the first time in a thousand years, the Legend of the Four Princesses has received an extraordinary update!”

That had been him, and then him again when he materialized before the entire town, clapping and cheery and—and—and she remembered turning to Petaldew and exclaiming how real he looked. 

A shiver ran down her spine, a pit forming at the bottom of her stomach, and she idly thought this was probably what her mother felt. What so many of them felt, in one way or another. 

“I’m not afraid of you, Discord! Not anymore! 
We’ll free the other princesses, and stop this! It’s over!”

And that had been her. 

…That had really been her, hadn’t it? 

Standing there in front of all of them, alive and breathing, the stuff of legends she’d heard over and over as a filly, in bedtime stories as she fell asleep, in playground games of spirits and princesses, and every year during Seeking Night.

Princess Booky. 

In the flesh. 

She was so caught up in the memory that she didn’t notice she’d arrived at her destination until it was right in front of her, bright and colorful and there. 

“Okay,” she whispered, steeling her nerves. “This is it. You’re going to do it.”

With a final nod for the benefit of nopony but herself, she marched forward, took a quick breath, prayed somepony was home, and knocked on the door of Carousel Boutique. 

“Miss Rarity?” she called out. “Are you there?”

Nopony answered, so she tried again. 

“Miss Rarity?” Four more knocks, louder for good measure. “Are you home?”

Once again, no answer came. 

“Shoot,” Snow Star whispered. 

She turned around, falling onto her haunches, the adrenaline hitting her all at once. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out, trying to figure out what to do next. 

She couldn’t go back to school. Or, well, she could, but she was so tardy, she’d definitely get a scolding, and her mother would find out she’d skipped school much earlier than she’d anticipated, and she’d get punished for sure, and—

“Why, Snow Star! Fancy seeing you here so early.”

The young mare yelped and practically toppled to the ground, ambushed by the noiseless pale unicorn standing next to her, her lips curved into an amused smile. 

“M-Miss Rarity!” Snow Star blurted out, scrambling to compose herself. “I’m sorry, you scared me.”

Rarity’s smile grew, a teasing twinkle in her eye. “I do have that effect, it would seem.” She brushed a hoof through her indigo mane. “I am quite the sight if I say so myself. Which I do! I do say so.”

“You should,” Snow Star replied, because… well, because she didn’t really know what else to say, and that felt like a polite thing to say. 

“I should,” Rarity agreed. “But the question is, my dear…” She tilted her head ever so slightly. “Are you flattering me because I’m beautiful, or because you want what’s forbidden? Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t you be in school?”

Mortified at being caught, a crimson blush swept over the teenager’s cheeks. Her eyes flickered briefly towards the glowing pink necklace hanging from Rarity’s neck, before looking down at her hooves, ears folding back as she spoke. 

“…Please.”

Rarity blinked. “Please?”

“Please take me to her. I… I know I shouldn’t, and I know why, but—” She swallowed her nerves and looked at the older mare, beseeching. “I want to see it. Her. Please. I have a right, too. It…It affects me, too!” she exclaimed, stamping her hoof on the ground for good measure, feeling very much like an adult right up until Rarity raised an eyebrow, and Snow Star was a filly again, burning holes into the ground. “S-Sorry,” she hastened to add. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—Sorry.”

“It’s alright, dear,” Rarity said after a moment, and when Snow Star looked up, the smile was warm. “I don’t blame you.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “If I were you, I’d have already tried going there myself, rules be damned.”

Snow Star giggled, the tension ebbing away. 

“But,” Rarity continued, and the lightness vanished from her tone as she glanced at her disfigured cutie mark, “foolish actions of that sort are also how that happened, so I’m delighted you’re more sensible than I am.”

Snow Star remembered that, too. It had been the talk of the town for a bit, ponies swearing up and down that they’d seen the attack! They’d been there, they insisted, watching in horror as Applejack rushed to the hospital, her coat stained with the blood of the mare bleeding to death on her back. 

“The Everfree Forest is dangerous,” Rarity said. 

“…Everything’s dangerous now, though,” Snow Star replied quietly. 

Rarity sighed. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose, but not necessarily for you. You are a bright young mare, Snow Star, but the beast lurking through Equestria has bigger fish to fry than a teenager playing hooky. The timberwolves, though…” She grimaced. “Not so much.”

“…Right,” Snow Star whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I…” She unslung her saddlebags from her back and opened them up, revealing the books within to the unicorn. “These are mine. They’re my favorites. Could… Could you give them to her? I thought she might like them, maybe.”

A long pause followed her question, the unicorn looking down at the books, her brow knitting into a frown. Enough time passed that Snow Star was about to cut her losses, embarrassed, but stopped when Rarity spoke. 

“Alright. I’ll take you.”

Snow Star blinked at her, convinced she must have heard wrong. “You what?”

“I’ll take you to her,” Rarity replied again. She looked at the younger mare, and though her tone was severe, there again was the twinkle of delight in her eyes. “Your mother came by a few days ago, correctly suspecting you’d try to convince me to take you.”

Snow Star’s eyes widened. “She did?”

“Oh, yes! I told her if you did, I’d try to deter you as best as I could, but if I suspected you might go on your own anyway, I’d take you myself if only to let you scratch the proverbial itch, as it were.” She cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, you did just say you were going to go with or without me, so…”

Snow frowned. “I did?” At Rarity’s pointed look, she quickly gasped, “I did! I mean, I would! For sure! Yes!”

“A-las!” Rarity sighed, shaking her head with dismay for about one second before she grinned brilliantly, nodding towards the horizon. “Shall we then? Before any other truant student catches sight of us.”

If Snow Star had expected the trek through the forest to be a scary endeavor, she quickly discovered this was not entirely true. Sure, the howling of timberwolves could be heard here and there in the distance, but the path itself was clearly marked by dozens of floating torches kept alive with raspberry magic, each and every one emitting a low-latency magical barrier. 

Princess Booky—Twilight, rather—had made them, Rarity said, one of many efforts to ensure Ponyville had not just easy passage to its lost library, but a safe one, too. 

Beyond a few questions here and there, their journey was a mostly silent one, the young mare too busy pondering the hundreds of questions she wanted to ask. Was it lonely, being trapped for a thousand years? Was it scary? Did she ever think she’d escape? How did it feel like when she did? Did she still like to read, or did she hate it when that was the only thing she could do for, well, forever? 

Would the princess like her? 

She had questions for Rarity, too, of course, but those she was more hesitant to ask because of… well… It would be rude, wouldn’t it? To be so direct, to ask about something so personal, something that might make Rarity feel bad. 

“You don’t have to be nervous.” 

Snow looked at Rarity. “Huh?” 

Rarity was watching her from the corner of her eye. “Everypony’s been quiet the first time they’ve gone to see her. But she’s very kind. If she seems standoffish at all, even just a little, it’s only because there’s a lot on her mind.” 

Snow nodded. And then asked, “She’s not angry at us?” 

“Angry?” Rarity asked, surprised. “Whyever would she be angry?” 

“I don’t know.” Snow looked back at the winding path, glimmers of magifire dotting the distance. “That we didn’t rescue her until now? That nopony did?” 

Rarity laughed, amused. “Goodness, no. I don’t think the thought’s ever so much as crossed her mind, to be frank.” Her tone softened. “Any blame she held was squarely misplaced, but never was it any of us.” 

“Okay,” Snow replied, a little more at ease, enough to confess, “that makes me feel better.” 

“Good,” Rarity replied. She looked up ahead and smiled brightly. “Ah! It’s coming up.” 

Snow looked forward again, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of a massive oak tree clear in the distance, surrounded by dozens of lit torches, straight out of a fairytale. Literally, at that. 

Oh, gosh, she thought, any nerves she had dying as her steady pace became a rushed gallop, it’s happening. It’s really happening, oh Princess Denza, I’m really going to meet her. 

“Slow down!” Rarity called out, the chastising tone ruined by the delight in her voice. “It’s not going anywhere!” 

One couldn’t exactly screech to a stop in a forest, but Snow still felt as if she had, coming to  a breathless halt before not just The Library, but the great perfectly circular depression that surrounded it. 

What the—?

She wondered for a worried minute if she was supposed to jump down, but was soon relieved to see wooden stairs had been placed a little further along the circle, which she hurried towards. Skipping one, two, three steps, she landed at the bottom with a stomp, taking a moment to breathe—in and out, in and out!–and then took her time walking towards the tree. 

It felt warranted. 

…For about two seconds, until she realized she was about to meet Princess Booky, and her galloping came back, landing her in front of a trapdoor and a freshly cleaned plaque welded to the tree. 

PONYVILLE PUBLIC LIBRARY
Donated by Princess Twilight Sparkle

“Holy f—!”

“Language, young miss!” came Rarity’s voice, the unicorn leisurely trotting over from the stairs. 

“Sorry, but—!” She stumbled over her words because this was it, this was it, Miss Rarity, it was real, it was real. 

“Do we go down?” Snow asked, eyeing the trapdoor excitedly. 

“We do,” Rarity replied, and after a moment’s pause, politely said, “After you?” 

“O-Oh, right! Sorry.” She cleared her throat and, with a giddy giggle, pulled the trapdoor open, peering down at winding, silver stairs. “Uhm. Do I go, or—” 

Rarity gestured her on. “Ladies first.”

Snow did not squeal going down the stairs. She would deny it if ever asked, practically flying down them. A well-lit tunnel waited at the bottom, and beyond it, her heart nearly beat out of her chest at the sight of a library. The Library.  

And… framed foal’s drawings, too, she noticed, nailed onto every inch of the tunnel’s walls. She waited for Rarity to catch up, and then allowed the older mare to go first, the nerves creeping back up. 

Step by step, she followed after the unicorn, curiously inspecting the drawings as she did so, the questions forming in her mouth dying the moment she was suddenly bathed in light and a gasp left her lips at the sight of it all.

Rows and rows of bookcases spread out in front of her, everywhere the eye could see, just behind a foyer littered with tables and cushions and all manner of things, a massive chandelier floating above it all.  

At the end of the room, she could see a silver spiral staircase, leading to a floor below where there were presumably even more books. Some walls were lined with additional bookcases, reaching all the way up to the ceiling, higher up than even Ponyville’s tallest building. 

“Oh, princesses,” Snow whispered, falling to her haunches. “Oh wow.” 

“Wow, indeed,” Rarity repeated, similarly admiring the view, a hint of awe in her voice. “And speaking of wow-inducing sights.” She stepped forward and, to Snow’s sudden panic, called out: “Princess Twilight? I brought a visitor!” 

Snow Star got up so fast that she got hit with whiplash, almost toppling back to the floor. But she didn’t, which was good, because if the first look Princess Twilight ever got of her was her dazed on the floor, she’d become a ghost, too. 

And she almost did, too, when a voice called back, and she felt about to faint from nerves. 

“I’m on my way!” 

Eons seemed to pass her by. Millenia, more time than what the four princesses ever waited probably, until finally, once more, for real and for sure, from amidst an aisle, Princess Twilight Sparkle emerged—and emerged was the word for it, dressed in full regalia, a crown on her head, wings tucked at her side, an alicorn royal—a book floating behind her and a smile on her lips. 

“Hello!” she said, then faltered, quickly glancing at Rarity and then back at Snow. “Ah, er. You look…young.”  

“Miss Rarity,” Snow whispered, “is it okay to swear now?” 

“Your Highness,” Rarity said, bowing slightly, an action which Snow immediately mimicked. “I know you weren’t expecting more ponies until later today, but an exception has been made for this delightful young mare. I hope that’s alright? Her mother is aware,” she added.  

“Good,” the princess replied, and when she turned to Star and addressed her directly, she thought she might faint. “I’m happy to make your acquaintance. What’s your name?” 

“SnowstarPrincessTwilight,” she stammered, horrified at the sound of her own words colliding against one another. 

“Snow Star,” the princess repeated. She bowed her head slightly. “Welcome to my library.” 

“Uhm,” said Snow. “Uhm,” she said twice. “Uhm,” she said thrice.

“…How did you find the trip here?” the princess asked next, mostly at Rarity, which Snow was very grateful about. “The torches are still working properly?”

“They are, yes, Your Highness!” Rarity replied. “And the journey was uneventful as it has been every other time. Granted, this trip only had two ponies rather than the usual ten or so, so I wasn’t anticipating any curious wolves coming to see what the fuss is about.” 

“Great. Thank you, Rarity.” 

“My pleasure, Princess. Oh! Before I forget,” she added, “Mayor Mare is preparing for your address in a few days, as you requested. The others should be here in time as well.” 

“The others?” Snow interrupted, the words tumbling out her mouth unbidden, not even realizing she’d done so until the two mares turned to her, and her cheeks reddened. “Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt!” 

“Curiosity is never something to apologize for,” said the princess kindly, completely unaware that Snow now planned to write that down and frame it on her wall the second she got home. “Speaking of which.” She smiled playfully. “Isn’t that a school bag on your back?” 

“Uuuuuuhm…” 

“Not at all, Your Highness!” Rarity intervened. “It’s a delivery bag with a very important delivery for you, in fact.”

Princess Twilight’s ears perked up.  

“Oh?” 

“Go on,” Rarity encouraged Snow, gesturing her on. “Show her!” 

“R-Right, yeah, uhm.” Snow stepped forward, her hooves trembling slightly as she took off her saddlebags. “So, well, I—” She swallowed, steadying her voice, and then continued: “Since this is a library, I, uhm—” She opened the saddlebags, and carefully extracted her favorite book, offering it to the princess. “I figured nopony had brought new books, so I thought maybe I would donate some? If you want them, of course!” 

The transformation was so immediate, it was startling. 

“Really?” gasped the princess, taking the book in her magic and then in her hooves, enthusiastically leafing through the pages. “What is it?” She closed it and read the title. “Frogpony Convenience? Ooooh!” She opened it again. “And it has illustrations!” 

“It’s a fable,” Snow quickly explained, her heart threatening to pound right out of her chest. “It’s really good! But. Er. It’s a little… It’s a little strange, I— It’s kind of not meant for ponies my age, and I know I shouldn’t have read it, but it’s really good, but also weird, but—” She forced herself to shut up before she made things worse. “Yes.” 

“It’s restricted?” the princess asked, and her eyes sparkled. “Ooooooh!” Her eyes shot to the saddlebags, and then her entire self as she moved forward, taking the rest of the books out in her magic. “And there’s more?” 

Rarity politely cleared her throat. “Your Highness.” 

“What?” the princess asked, only to immediately realize what she’d done and just as quickly put the books back in the bags, a deep blush staining her cheeks. “Er. Right. Sorry. Uhm. Books.” She cleared her throat. Yes.” 

Oh, Princess Denza, thought Snow wildly, at a loss for words, she’s just like me. 

“Good lord,” Rarity said, clearly trying not to laugh. 

“Can I…” The princess gestured to the bags. “Can I look them over, please? If that’s alright.” 

Please. Princess Booky had just asked her—Her! Snow Star!–if she could please look over her books? She was going to die, right there and then, death by Princess Booky. 

“Yes, please!” Snow somehow said, trying her best not to cry from sheer excitement. “Please! They’re—They’re for you.” 

“They’re for me,” the princess repeated softly after a moment’s pause, and alarm would have ripped through Snow at the sight of tears if it wasn’t for the smile on Princess Twilight’s face. 

If it wasn’t for the terrified glance Snow threw Rarity’s way, expecting the unicorn to be similarly concerned by the tears, but instead finding the unicorn looking at the princess with affection so painfully sincere it was completely disarming.

“Princess?” Rarity eventually said gently. 

“Huh?” the princess asked, the slight choke in her voice bringing her attention to her own emotional state. “Oh! Sorry, I—!” She quickly wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. “Sorry, it’s…” 

“Princess Twilight has been through a lot,” Rarity explained to Snow, the young mare’s chest tightening at being confided with such a statement. “As I’m sure you can imagine, all things considered.” 

“I understand,” Snow replied, and for a moment, she hesitated to continue, to say something that might not be welcome, but she had to say it, wanted to say it, because she meant it, “and so have you, Miss Rarity.” 

And not for the first time, it seemed, Snow Star made someone cry.

“Hah. I suppose I have,” Rarity whispered. She lifted her hoof to wipe away her eyes, and when again her face was revealed, a warm smile was there. “Thank you for saying so, darling. I appreciate it more than you know.” 

A silence settled in the library, not uncomfortable at first, not for Snow, at least, until she reflected on the words they’d just said, and the anxiety returned. The pit at the bottom of her stomach, growing and growing, needing to be addressed. To be voiced, because…

Well, because Star Snow aced her tests and babysat foals, and she felt like an adult, but if she’d learned something these past few weeks, it was that even adults were afraid of fairytale monsters. 

“Princess Twilight,” she asked, brave as she was, which was as brave as a pony could get, “is… is the Spirit really out there?” 

Princess Twilight breathed in and out, and when she spoke, she did with all the respect a big pony such as Snow Star deserved.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, he is.” 

And, again, not for the first time, but hopefully the last, tears welled up in somepony’s eyes. 

“Oh,” she said, and then, her voice small, asked, “…Will everything be okay?” 

The princess didn’t reply at first, and more tears welled up in the young mare’s eyes, afraid of what that meant. Afraid, until raspberry magic enveloped her saddlebags, gingerly moving them away so Princess Twilight could step forward and lean down to meet Snow’s gaze. 

“Everything will be okay,” she said, not a hint of insincerity in her voice, just warmth and affection and reassurance.

“…Do you promise?” 

“I promise. In fact.” She grinned. “I Pinkie Pie promise, which Rarity can confirm is even more a promise than a regular pinkie promise.” 

“Oh, yes,” Rarity said gravely. “It’s very serious.” 

“And—And what about—” 

She cut herself off. She couldn’t say it. She didn’t want to upset anypony, and perhaps more importantly, she didn’t want to be upset herself. Because, she realized, even if it was silly considering she barely knew Her, she found she would be very upset if the answer was no. 

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” Rarity said, and Princess Twilight continued, “What about what?”

Snow’s voice cracked. “I… I’m afraid to ask.” 

“Then ask afraid,” Princess Twilight replied. “The bravest of questions are those asked with the most fear.” 

“I—” She looked at the floor, hoping that speaking at all was brave enough. “It’s about Miss Rarity.” Fear arrested her when she noticed Princess Twilight visibly stiffen before her, and she buried her face in her hooves, horrified. “I’m sorry, I—I take it back, I—” 

“Darling,” Rarity interrupted, and she didn’t sound mad, she didn’t sound upset, please, she hoped she wasn’t angry, please. “It’s all right.” 

“Rarity,” Princess Twilight said, and when Snow flinched, so too did the princess. 

“Twilight. I don’t mind.” A beat, and she spoke again, and it was so gentle. “Snow Star, ask your question. It’s perfectly fine, sweetheart.” 

“Will—Will—” The words came choked out, but they came. “Miss Rarity, will you be okay?” 

 There was a long pause. 

“Snow, darling, can you look at me?” Rarity asked eventually. “It’s all right if not, but I would love it if you did.” 

Snow nodded.

She wiped her tears and looked up at Rarity, fixing her blurry attention on her properly and truly, unlike before when she’d been too nervous or afraid of being rude because she figured everypony stared, and she didn’t want to be another pony staring. 

Staring, and remembering all the silly little details she’d noticed so far, like how no door had been opened earlier outside Carousel Boutique, or how Rarity’d politely encouraged Snow to open the trapdoor herself, or…

Or how, if she focused, she could see rows and rows of bookcases through Rarity’s slightly translucent body. 

And it was staggering. It was staggering that what she found were not tears, or a pained expression, or somepony trying to be brave. 

What she found was a sincere smile. 

“Darling, dearest,”  said Rarity the unicorn, who, if the stories were true, had faced dragons, spirits, and crazed chaos magic, so many things, each as fantastical as the last, and was now nothing but a spirit herself. She said with utmost confidence, “I will be fabulously fine; don’t you worry about that.” 

“…Promise?” asked Snow, only for Princess Twilight Sparkle to reply, drawing herself up.

“Yes,” she said, the bravest pony of them all, having faced not dragons, spirits, or fantastical things but perhaps one of the most terrifying things a pony could be forced to face in the whole entire world. 

Oneself. 

“I do.” 

“…Okay,” replied Snow Star, she, like so many others, putting her faith in the two ponies standing before her. “I believe you.” 

“Now,” Rarity said, the sudden levity in her voice a welcome guest, “if there are no more questions, I do believe there are some new books to be read and sorted through?” She looked at Princess Twilight. “Any thoughts, Your Highness?” 

“I think,” she said, and when she smiled, a great weight was lifted off Snow’s shoulders, “I think that sounds like a great idea.” 

“Excellent!” Rarity replied. “Snow, darling.” She gestured towards the aisles. “Why don’t you go take a look around? Perhaps find a nice cozy spot we can all comfortably read in? We’ll join you in just a few minutes.” 

Snow nodded, wiping the last of her tears. “Okay!” 

That said, with one last glance towards Princess Twilight, she set off towards the bookcases, disappearing into one of the aisles, and…

And leaving behind two mares in a library foyer, looking at each other as they so often did. 

“Darling, dearest, sweetheart, love of my entire life, Twi-light Sparrrrrrrk-le,” said Rarity, regaling her princess with a dazzling grin, “have I told you lately that you are, without the shadow of a doubt, the single-hoofedly most stunning mare I have ever had the privilege of knowing?” 

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. That sounds vaguely familiar, I think, yes.” 

“Well, good! Because you are!” Rarity declared. “And did I not think you’d take it the wrong way, which you will, I would say something else.” 

“I see.” 

“So you do.” 

“It can’t be that bad,” Twilight mused. 

“Oh, make no mistake, it is. You’d be justified in being upset, but it would delight me endlessly.” She looked away. “Alas!” 

“…Okay, fine,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes. “Now I want to know.” 

“And you won’t be upset? You’ll promise with as much severity as you promised Snow?” 

“…Sure,” Twilight replied. 

“Twilight Sparkle,” she said, “you are the singlehoofedly most stunning mare I’ve ever laid eyes on, and with every passing day, and especially after that reaction when she gave you those books, my stars, I would die for you.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “And in fact—!” 

“Stop—” 

“—I have!” 

“Well,” Twilight said, “first of all, you’re not dead, you’re displaced, which is incredibly fortunate for you because it means I can’t kill you for even saying that.” 

Rarity smiled. “I did say it was bad.” 

“Yes,” Twilight replied, her lips melting into a smitten smile. “Yes, you did.” 

“In any case,” Rarity said, making a move towards where Snow had disappeared, “shall we—”

“Rarity.” 

Rarity stopped in her tracks, surprised to find Twilight staring very intently at her. “…Yes?” 

“We’re going to fix this,” she said quietly. “You do know that, don’t you? You really do believe you’re going to be fine, right?”

“Twilight…” 

“Right?” Twilight asked again, her hoof grasping the glowing pendant hanging from her neck.

In response, Rarity took hold of her own necklace, glowing as strong as it ever would. 

“I know, Twilight. Besides, we’ve survived one ghost story already, haven’t we?” She offered Twilight a brilliant grin. “What’s one more?”