Twilight turned towards Dale. He, too, was nothing but ghostly silver lines, a mere shadow next to Lyra’s brilliant golden radiance. There were fish she’d heard of that had transparent flesh; only their bones and organs were visible. She’d never seen one, but imagined that this was what they must look like. Living ghosts. It was creepy as Tartarus, and she shuddered as she ended the spell. How could they live like that? No wonder the medicine was barely working. A pony with such low magical energy would be dead. Apparently, these creatures could survive that. Maybe magic was very limited where they came from, too. She broke her concentration and let the spell fail, turning her focus back to what her eyes could normally see.