//------------------------------// // Pact // Story: In Time, This Too Shall Pass // by Vermilion and Sage //------------------------------// Wooden spokes creaked as the aging cart wound down the street.  Each turn of the wheels over the soaking cobblestones clacked harshly against the soft patter of the rain.  Heads bent low, the two stallions drawing the cart shuffled forward, giving me a view of its contents.         Young and old, rich and poor, none of those lying in the back had escaped the kiss of the plague.  Bodies were haphazardly thrown one on top of the other into the back.  Boils dotted their faces and legs, and pus oozed from open sores, pushed on by the drizzle.  With every bump the cart hit, the bodies bounced and shook, but nothing could make them appear living again. Living like me.         Just before the cart faded into the gloom, I caught sight of the two faces I’d prayed to Celestia for months that I would not see amongst the dead.  Feather Waft lay near the top of the pile, her pink face covered by a mess of yellow-gold mane and her feathers a soaking mess.  She’d been thirteen, two years older than me, and one year short of coming of age…I’d given her soup just a day ago.  She couldn’t sit up to eat it, so I fed it to her.  With every bite she thanked me, and told me how good it was.  When she was done she tried to hug me, but could barely move.  After I came back from washing the bowl to tuck her in, she wouldn’t wake up.         Thatcher, on the other hoof, lay near the bottom of the stack.  All I could see was a gray foreleg, and enough of her face to know it was her.  With the one eye I could see shut, she looked serene.  I almost wished I could share in that peace.  Almost.  She’d been fifteen, and our parents were looking to marry her off soon.           As the cart which bore my sisters wound down the road and out of sight to the cemetery, I heaved a sigh.  They’d be thrown in a mass grave because nopony had the time or energy to dig that many graves anymore.  There was nothing I could do, and after shoving my hood all the way over my head, I followed my parents back to the cottage.  Looking up at the sky would just get my already soaking mane even wetter, and the gray would remind me of Thatcher.  Looking down at the path would make me glance at the pink flowers on the side, and make me think of Feather Waft.  So for lack of anywhere else, I stared at my own brown hooves.         The problem with shielding my face from the rain was that the tears stayed.  When they ran down my cheeks, they clung on long enough to actually drip to the ground below.  We walked in silence until we were home.  Mother went ahead, muttering something about making dinner.  I could hear it in her voice; she wouldn’t know what to do, only making dinner for three.  At least the effort of stirring some soup and consuming it would be something to take our minds off of those who were not with us. I couldn’t hold it any longer.  They’d always told me to be a strong colt, and that my sisters would get through it.  Being the earth pony in the family was fun.  I could carry one of them all the way to the doctor to get medicine even though I was smaller than them; I remembered how Thatcher had wound her forelegs around my neck tight as I walked back between the hovels and down the stone-covered streets. “Can you pretend to be a brave knight for me, Brook?” she’d asked.  “I want to feel like the stallion of my dreams is carrying me away.” “Anything for you milady!” I cried as I began to gallop.  She’d laughed as I ran through the streets, to the cottage that was our home. Remembering that moment made the rising burn in my throat grow too hot to bear, and I choked out a sob.  The tears running down my face fell off as I shook, and disappeared into the mud.  My father noticed too, and the hood came off my face in an aura of azure magic.  He looked over me as I stared into his eyes, watching his grief turn to rage. “Why are you crying?!” he hissed.  “Both of my daughters are dead and there was nothing I could do about it.  Your mother is broken, and I am too.  And here you are, the only one crying.  You’d better put that away right now.  You’re a stronger colt than that, because your mother is going to need you to be strong for her...and you need to be strong for you.”  He paused, as if he were going to say more, then shook his head and followed mother inside. Between time alone in the rain, and time inside with my parents, neither of whom would be talking to each other, I chose the rain.  Putting the hood back up gave me the feeling of silence and solace, as if the narrow view of the world I had left was all that existed.  The edge of the horizon was beginning to slip from gray to black as night overtook what little light which day offered our town.  Lights came on in the few houses that could afford them as I wandered aimlessly down the streets, going wherever my hooves decided they wanted me to go. Night had fallen by the time I reached the other side of the town, looking out at the road which led on to the next town and the rest of the kingdom.  Off to my left lay a much smaller trail, barely more than two muddy ruts in the field, leading off toward the forest.  A thrill of trepidation ran down my spine, and I turned onto that path, avoiding the wetter spots as best as I could in the dark.  Each exhaled breath rose like a dying spirit, climbing to whatever lay beyond the sky. The forest grew into a dark wall as I neared, a darker black against the black of the land.  Beneath me, the path widened out, and that was all the warning I had before I almost walked into a low wooden gate.  It was then the moon came out from behind the clouds, bathing the entire land in a dark gray-blue hue.  Slanting posts held up a simple fence that connected to the gate on each side, and made a half circle back in each direction to the trees...containing the markers within.  I’d been here before, when aunts and uncles had died, but never alone, and never at night.  There was nothing I could do then, and nothing I could do now, but I still bit down on the gate latch and went on in. Stones marked the resting place of those fortunate enough to afford them, and rotted branches in crude imitations of the sun marked the graves of those not.  I walked past rows and rows, my heartbeat growing faster as I neared the far side.  As it came closer, my eyes were drawn to the sight of the massive hole in the earth in front of me. The plague pit had to be twenty lengths across and at least that deep.  It had been filled some of the way, legs and torsos and heads still visible under the layer of powdered limestone that had been cast over the top.  The white, chalky substance reflected the moonlight well, but did little for my ability to see who was in there.  I fancied I could see Feather Waft and Thatcher, but I knew I was just fooling myself.  Nor was I stupid enough to climb down there and look for them...but I wanted...something. “Of course you do.  That is always the nature of those who come here.” I jumped at the voice, turning to see a tall figure in a hooded cloak beside me.  Scampering back and slipping on the wet grass, I looked for the quickest way to run, before I realized he wasn’t following me.  Rather, he just held still, watching me, or so I thought.  The moonlight neglected to fall upon his face or muzzle; everything under that hood lay in darkness.  No bulges lay under the hood or the back of his cloak, but he seemed too thin to really be an earth pony.  Then again, everypony was hungry these days. “Wha...What are you doing here?” “Nothing so different from what you are.” “Well, who are you here to see?” “I am here to see to everyone.  You’d best be on your way.  It is late.” His voice was dark, but not forbidding.  I edged closer.  “I know, but my parents need some time alone.  And I wanted to see them again.” He nodded slowly.  “I see.  It is good you gave that to them, but you must know there is no more you can do for your sisters.” “How did you know who I was here for?  And what is your name?  I don’t think I’ve seen you around town before.”  I stared suspiciously.  An outsider shouldn’t be in our graveyard with our dead. “My name is...you can call me Toll.”  He drew a long, slow breath.  “And no, you’re right, I’m not from around here.  I meant it though.  You parents are worried for you, and you should leave now.” “You still didn’t say what you were doing!  And you tell me to leave!  What are you going to do to my sisters?”  I stood up tall, snorted, and stamped my hoof over the grass several times.  There was no way this...outsider would desecrate what little we had. A long sigh left his lips, and Toll knelt down to face me.  “More than you can.  I am here to give them peace.”  I still couldn't see under his hood.  “You won’t understand now, but I think in time you will come to thank me.  Please, just run along now.”  The moon went back to it’s resting place behind the clouds, plunging my surroundings into darkness.  In the time it took me to realize what he meant, my eyes had adjusted. “You’re here to take them to the after, arent you?”  Toll nodded slowly.  “You’re Death.”  Another nod.  “Can I...talk to them again, one last time?” He stood silent for a moment.  “I could, but it is not easy for me.  If I grant you this, you will need to repay me, and you won’t like what it costs.  Child, it is not of who they are now to stay here.” I didn’t care what else he had said.  Only the hope of seeing them again remained.  “Let me talk to them.” “Are you sure?” I nodded eagerly, and Toll turned back out to face the pit.  His cloak lifted up, and I saw a pale foreleg extend from under his cloak stretch toward the hole in the earth.  Light came from within, and I saw once again the faces of those I’d seen that afternoon, their eyes open and lively as their spirits rose from the dirt.  As they reached the top, one by one they silently vanished, until only two remained. “Feather!  Thatcher!” I cried as I reached out to embrace them.  Instead of making contact, my forelegs went right through, and I almost overbalanced and fell into the pit.  A firm connection to the earth saved my little tail as I sat down, grounding myself in safety.  “I missed you two so much!” “Oh Brook, you shouldn’t have done this.”  Thatcher had tears in her eyes and a smile on her face.  “We will miss you too, but it won’t be too long before you will see us again.” Feather Waft put a ghostly hoof up to mine.  I tried to push mine up against it, but it went right through again.  She shook her head with a smile.  “I know you love us Brook, but now you have to live for yourself.  Can you promise me something?” “An-an-anything!” “Make the most of yourself.  We’ll watch over you, and always be proud of you.  We’ll be with you until you can see us again, alright?” “I promise.”  She smiled again, and their pale forms began to fade.  “Wait, don’t go!” “I’m sorry, I can’t keep them here any longer.”  Toll let his cloak fall to cover his leg again.  “And I am weary.  It has cost me much to let you speak with them.  I will instruct you now, for I soon must depart as well.” “What do you want?” “I will tell you upon my return.  You shall see me again.”  As Feather Waft, Thatcher, and all the villagers had faded, so Toll did as well.  “And when I do, you shall…” his voice trailed off as he disappeared, leaving me alone in the night. I stood rooted to the spot for another five minutes, not sure if he was really gone.  Once I couldn’t take it anymore, I got up and ran to where he last stood.  There were no indents in the grass.  Likewise, the pit hadn’t changed all all; nothing marked what I had seen tonight save for a memory.  It was getting cold, and I was hungry.  With the moon behind the clouds, there was no way to tell what time of night it was, but dinner was long ago. On the way back, I bickered with myself and pondered on what I had seen.  How can I tell mother and father about this?  Would they even believe me?  They’re already going to scold me when I get back, or tomorrow.  They’ll be worried that I caught the plague from standing by the pit...I can’t tell them I was there.  I’ll lie and say I went for a walk in the woods.  Or in the town.  Sorrow filled my heart.  My parents wouldn’t know their daughters’ last words.  Unless...won’t mother and father see them again too?  With that measure of hope, I walked on, finding my way back into town. The streets were empty at this hour, and the lights were out.  No merchant called his wares, no house proclaimed the life within.  I tip-hoofed quietly on what grass I could find, making sure each step didn’t clack on the cobblestones.  With my eyes cast to the ground, it was little time before I found myself at the door of our home, the lights on the inside as dark as the rest of the town.  A little nudge and it swung inwards, letting the warm air wash over me.  Ooooh...it must be colder out here than I thought. The meager dinner mother had likely made was all cleaned up, and there was nothing left for me.  My stomach gurgled, but I ignored it.  Waking up my parents would land me a yelling at, if not beatings, and there would be no food to be had from that.  Instead, I snuck over into the next room, and onto the smallest cot, over in the corner.  Laying my head down on the straw-stuffed pillow, I let my eyes wander over the empty resting places where Feather Waft and Thatcher once lay.  I knew I should be feeling some kind of sadness, but all I could see were their smiles and their tearful eyes, begging me to live on for them. “You wouldn’t want me to cry...too much.  I made a promise.”  No…two.