71: And nobody seems to know where you go.
And nobody seems to know where you go.
Chapter published 27th Dec 2014
****************
Accidents happen. This is a fact of life.
No matter how technologically advanced the civilisation.
No matter how prepared the authorities.
No matter how careful the citizens.
Accidents happen, that’s just the way it is.
To expect otherwise would be nothing more than mere folly- some kind of wishful thinking coupled with the worst kind of self delusion. Nature, time, destiny; all these care not for the individual. Fate itself is neither good, nor bad- it just is. The ultimate in impersonal. No mortal can know what fate has in store, what random combination of occurrences can whisk one away to their final end, what perfect storm of initially unconnected events can lead one to take their final fateful step.
Accidents happen. This is a fact of life.
But it’s still one hell of a surprise when they happen right in front of your eyes.
*******************
Shifting the sling that had been so recently haphazardly placed around her neck, Lyra Heartstrings shuffled sideways, ushering the young filly at her hooves further along the pavement. Held against her chest, the youngest child of herd Bellerophon slept- the tiny, slumbering foal totally disconnected from the big strange world all around her; totally unaware of the unfortunate series of events that had unfolded - and were unfolding still - just across the street.
Down by their mother’s hooves, Star Song’s older sister watched with abject fascination as her father and one of her mothers sped away from them, the filly shifting left and right as her mother did her best to both shuffle the three of them down the road and to surreptitiously block her daughter’s view of what was going on. Sweet Spirit, however, was having none of it. She may not have understood every aspect what was happening just a dozen or so body-lengths away, but she knew it was something big.
The first thing they had heard, the very first thing that had let everypony know that something strange or odd was about to happen, had been the screams.
The next signal that things were ‘amiss’ had been the driver-less passenger carriage hurtling its way past them at breakneck speed.
After that had come the biggest, most discordant, cacophony of sound ever as the runaway cart had careened headlong through a set of safety barriers and into the base of a large set of construction scaffolding that cocooned one of the Canterlot Castle’s older towers.
Whether the scaffolding had been poorly secured, or was still in the process of being constructed, was unclear. But what was clear was that the impact against its lower supports had caused it to collapse almost instantly, taking more than three storeys worth of metal and wood on a short and unexpected trip straight down... express tickets all ‘round- no stopping, no sightseeing.
Luckily, and against all odds, no workmares had been working out on the affected sections of scaffolding as it had collapsed. Instead they stood on what little remained standing, both tools and jaws left dangling as the rest of the structure collapsed before their very eyes.
The fates had smiled upon them that day. It was just a shame that the same couldn't be said of whomever had been riding in that runaway cab at the time.
No pony had known what was happening until it was too late, confusion and shock reigning supreme in the seconds immediately after... but that hadn’t stopped Rainbow Dash from shooting off towards the trapped cart, and the wreckage that covered it, before the dust had even a chance to settle.
After pulling Star Song’s sling over his head and passing it over to Lyra, Lero had ran after his pegasus wife, leaving Lyra standing alone with their two young fillies.
So, there she was- left holding the baby... literally.
Shifting the sling again, moving it to a more natural position while being super careful not to wake their youngest child (though generally nothing short of a marching band could wake little Song once she finally got her head down), Lyra could feel something pulling at her leg.
Looking down, she found her daughter looking back up at her, with that oh-so familiar expression that told her questions (plural) were coming. The filly had that look of slight befuddlement going on, coupled with something that looked not unlike Lero’s ‘I’m thinking’ face with the added bonus of Twilight’s ‘my brain’s about to go ding’ twitchy eye.
At any other time Lyra would have taken a small amount of pleasure at waiting for Sweetie to work through her mental processes - often imagining a small egg-timer or spinning beach-ball whirring away in the filly’s brain - and usually welcomed her daughter’s questions in spite of - or maybe because of - the fact that Sweetie was one of the few ponies she couldn't just confound with riddles or enigmatic half phrases. Right now though, and considering what she was most likely to be asked, she really wished Twi was here so she could pass these queries over to her.
“Mommy?” and so it began, not that Lyra would have it any other way, “why’s Mommy Rainbow going that way-” Sweetie pointed towards the twisted remains further down the street, before moving her hoof to indicate in the other direction, “-while every other pony’s going that way?”
“Well,” Lyra began, wondering how best to phrase what could easily end up becoming quite the in-depth discussion if she wasn’t careful, “Mommy Rainbow’s a rescue pony, and some pony over there might need rescuing. That’s the thing about Rainbow, if there’s something dangerous going on you can usually count on her to be running into it rather than away from it like everypony else. And even if she wasn’t a rescue pony, she’d probably still go and try to help. That’s just the kind of mare she is. If all Tartarus itself broke loose I wager she’d fly right into the eye of the storm like it was no big thing.”
Sweetie nodded and, even as she watched her daughter's curly mane bounce about with the movement, Lyra could almost imagine her young brain working over what she had been told, piecing it together with what she already knew, working the problem through peice by peice like a huge mental jigsaw.
“But Daddy’s not a rescue pony, is he?”
“No, he’s not,” Lyra agreed, a wistful smile on her lips even though this wasn't really the time for mirth, “he’s just spent too much time around Mommy Rainbow, that’s all. Crazy. Absolutely crazy, the pair of them.”
She could see them both now- trying their hardest, doing what they could, hoping against hope that it would be enough. Within seconds they’d taken control of the scene, using ponies’ natural herding instincts to their advantage: Rainbow was barking orders at any nearby pegasi, sending them off to either summon help or instructing them to use their wings to blow away the billowing clouds of dust and dirt; Lero organizing a hoof-full of unicorns to use their magic to secure the wreckage, carefully pulling away plank and pole alike, as they cleared a path to the carriage trapped beneath.
As soon as there was a big enough gap in the jumbled pile of chaos, Lero folded himself over in that way that still enthralled Lyra every time she saw it, pushing his body in between metal and wood. For all of his superior size he was far more adept at weaving his way between the wreckage than any pony would ever be, his form evolved from creatures more at home up in the treetops than out on the open plains. Bending and twisting, using his long legs and gangly arms to push and pull himself through, the human made his way slowly towards his goal.
Lyra sighed, pulling Star Song’s sling closer to the warmth of her chest, checking that the filly’s little wooly hat was still in place.
Yes, that was just the way that her herdmates were, and she loved them both for it. At the first sign of a pony in trouble, or in need, and they’d both go charging off to help in whatever way that they could, often leaving Lyra holding the baby... quite literally in this case. Not that she minded. They had this well in hoof without her, and somepony had to watch over the kids.
Lero had almost battled his way to the twisted carriage - making slow progress as any loose scaffolding was lifted from his path by either unicorn magic or the hooves of carefully hovering pegasi - when a burly stallion came barreling down the street towards the wreckage. His yellow jacket and hat, both with black and white chequered trim, marked him as a taxi driver- his distraught cries and calls for help making it plain that he was also this particular taxi’s driver.
As he came close enough to see what had happened to his cart, he collapsed to his knees, wailing not for the state of his carriage, the source of his livelihood, but for the possible fate of his passenger. One of the larger earth pony workmares from the construction crew moved to his side, letting the taxi-driver cling to her withers as the distraught stallion wept and wailed into her neck like some kind of wounded beast.
Against the backdrop of shouts and cries being passed back and forth, and the bustling activity that they accompanied, Lyra couldn't help but notice that several of the ponies not directly involved in the rescue attempt had taken it upon themselves to make sure that, once removed, the recovered scaffolding was being stacked neatly off to the side of the street. Such was the desire to help, possibly brought on by the sight of so many others working together towards a common goal, that these peripheral individuals had felt the need to do something, almost anything, to aid in some way.
Turning back to the cart, Lyra’s eyes pierced the tangle as best they could, catching glimpses of her husband’s face as he finally reached the side of the carriage and looked inside for the first time. Even after all these years, many ponies had a hard time reading his expressions, what with his immobile ears, small mouth and even smaller eyes. But Lyra was an expert in any expressions that might grace his features... and right now the many emotions that flickered across his face in quick succession told her everything that she needed to know.
As he reached a hand into the cab, his other hand gripping the window frame tightly for balance, Lyra could tell that he was checking for a pulse, something his long, sensitive fingers should have no problem finding beneath the soft fur that coated a pony’s neck. As she watched from the other side of the street, her eyes could easily see those of her stallion’s as they tightened, the subtle knitting of his eyebrows speaking volumes.
They had been too late. Whomever the pony had been that had stepped into that cab earlier in the day, they were gone now.
At the edges of the crowd, members of the Royal Guard were arriving, summoned by the pegasi that Rainbow Dash had sent for help just moments before. Quickly taking stock of the scene, the highest ranking guard obviously recognising both Rainbow and Lero - the Wonderbolt Captain and the Royal Princesses’ own former Viceroy - he immediately deferred authority to them both, putting both himself and his team under their command.
The lead guard made a beeline for Rainbow Dash, seeking both information and orders. Rainbow in turn looked to her stallion for what would hopefully be good news, but instead only found downcast eyes and a slow shaking of the head.
For a second the human and the pegasi locked eyes. No words were spoken; none were needed. They had been together long enough now to know all that needed to say, or not. A few seconds, that’s all they had, before Rainbow turned back to the guard and gave him her preliminary report.
Leaning his upper body into the cab, reaching further than before, Lyra could see the human reach out towards the occupant's face. Though her view was partly obstructed by twisted metal, she could still make out a hand as it was placed over the dead pony’s eyes, could see his lips move as whispered to the recently departed mare.
Whatever it was he said, she could not hear, and she doubted that anyone alive was even meant to. But she knew what he would be saying. It would be an apology - of this she had no doubt - an apology for not being there sooner, for not being able to stop the accident before it had occurred, for not saving their life.
That he could not have saved them was not his fault, Lyra knew that. Heck, everypony present knew that. Even Lero himself knew it. But he still apologised all the same. That was just the way he was.
Bowing her head, Lyra closed her eyes, mentally reciting an ancient mantra, taught to her many years ago by a great mare now long gone. A few words for the lost, that was all. It wasn’t much, she knew that, but right now it was all that she could give.
As night falls, so day dawns. As fire dies, so does it shine forth.
As we end, so we begin; in silence, and in darkness, and the embrace of all things.
“Mommy?”
A tug at her leg prompted the unicorn to open her eyes, finding her daughter, with her bright golden eyes, looking back up at her.
“Yes, little one?”
“Who’s that?”
The young filly was pointing a forehoof towards a spot slightly off to the side of the crumpled carriage but, try as she might, Lyra couldn’t see anypony there, only a tangled pile of untouched scaffolding.
“Hmm? Who, dear?”
“Who’s the glowy alicorn? Is she Auntie Woona and Auntie Celly’s sister?”
“Alicorn? What alicorn? I can’t see any alicorns, Sweetie.”
“Over there, by Daddy. She’s helping that pony out of the smashed up cart. She must be real good with magic as she’s made that other pony all incop... in cop.... all not solid and see-though like.”
“Do you mean ‘Incorporeal’?”
“‘In-cor-por-eal’. Yeah, thanks, Mom. She’s made that other pony in-cor-por-eal so she can help her out of the cart without hurting her.”
Lyra looked again to where her daughter was pointing, but couldn’t see any alicorn no matter how she tried, nor any other pony getting out of the carriage. But no pony was going to be getting out of that carriage any time soon. With the speed that it had crashed, it would have been a miracle if the passenger had gotten out alive... a miracle that they just hadn't received. But that was the thing about miracles- they just didn't happen every time you needed one. That was what made the ones that did happen ‘miracles’.
Still sitting by the cart’s side side was her husband, eyes closed and head bowed. Rainbow was still out by the crowd, talking to a pair of royal guards. Other guards were taking statements or cordoning off the area for safety, ready for later investigation. A pegasi paramedic was attending to the visibly inconsolable taxi driver, checking his pulse as he breathed deeply into a large paper bag. The rest of the recently arrived medical team were unfurling a large stretcher, the waterproof kind that came with a zippable cover.
“I’m sorry, Sweetie. I still can’t see any alicorn, honey. What does she look like?”
“Well, she’s big, and white, like Auntie Celly used to be when I was really little. And she’s got a long red mane, like big-sis Applebloom.”
“Really?”.
Lyra could feel her heart start to catch in her chest. Could the old tales be true? Lyra had learnt a long time ago that just because you couldn't see something with your own eyes, couldn’t measure it with your own hooves or replicate it with your own magic, it didn’t mean that it wasn’t real.
“Does she have a cutie mark?”
“Yeah, it’s a feather...” Sweetie squinted, tilting her head sideways as if she was trying to make out some hard-to-see detail, “No, it’s a quill, like the ones on Mommy Twilight’s desk, those ‘specially special’ ones that I’m not allowed to go near. Yeah, a big black quill, in a big black inkpot.”
If Sweetie was at all surprised when her mother’s forehooves wrapped around her small form and pulled her closer, she didn’t show it.
“Can you still see her?”
“Yeah. She’s so pretty. I wish I could be like her when I grow up.”
“And can she see you?”
“Yeah, and she’s waving back. See.”
“No, honey, I’m afraid I can’t see her. But that’s not one of Auntie Luna’s sisters.”
No matter how much she tried, Lyra couldn’t see the pony that Sweetie described- but that didn’t stop her daughter from waving at them anyway.
“She’s not an alicorn at all. She’s something much bigger than that. She’s much bigger than all of us. After all, she created us.”
*************
Sherbert Dabble had not been having a particularly good day so far.
First there’d been the waking up late. Like, reeeeally late. Yeah, that’d kinda set the tone for the rest of the day. If she’d been one to believe in bad omens, then at that point she probably would have just written the day off and gone back to bed.
Then, rushing about to try and at least make it to work without being so late that Old Mare Skinflint would fire her rather than just docking her wages, she’d almost choked to death on her toast. Not a good start to the day.
Losing her first cab to some snotty uptight noble-mare prick? Yeah, that hadn’t helped. Totally should have been reading the signs by that point.
After finally managing catch a second cab, it had broken loose from its driver and shot off down the the hill with her stuck inside. Celestia-dammit!. Why her? Why? Had she been cruel to puppies in a previous generation or something?
And then, to top it all, just when she’d thought her day couldn’t get any worse, fate had given her one last kick in the teats by serving her up a particularly sudden and completely unexpected death.
Yeah, that’s right.
Dead.
As a doornail.
D. E. A. D.
Dead!
Oh, Horseapples!
Okay, I get it: today sucks!
Can I just go back to bed now, please?
Peering back into the twisted cab, not really wondering how she could be standing here, on top of a piles of planks and poles, looking back into a cab that just seconds ago she’d been screaming to be let out of, Sherbert took in the body before her.
Hanging from the cab’s window was a pale green hoof, the exact colour she’d seen every single day of her life. Reaching out, she tried to lift it, to maybe comfort the body as it lay still, unmoving, immobile, amidst the bustle of activity that was exploding around them. But her hoof passed right through... well, her hoof. No more able to affect it than a mare could catch a shadow.
So... dead then? Proper dead. As in... ‘dead’ dead.
Not so far away, ponies were working together, moving wood and metal, yelling back and forth. But Sherbert didn’t notice any of that. Instead, there was one thing that came to mind. And she had no idea where it had come from.
Oh, nuts. I’ve still got a library book to return!
But the absurdity of the randomness of her thoughts was not lost on her, a short, strangled laugh coming to her lips. Not the dead ones of course... they weren't going to be laughing any time soon.
Moving around the carriage - again, not wondering about how she could balance so precariously on a pile of wreckage that right now needed nothing more than the smallest of movements to trigger it collapsing in on itself - she took in her own face.
By Luna... I look so stupid!
Glassy eyes, a faint look of surprise, neck twisted at an unnatural angle, a blood-covered scaffold pole pushed all the way through the upper chest.
Well, there’d been worse looking corpses, that was true. As dead bodies go, it could have been worse.
At least it was pretty painless. Thank the maker for small mercies.
As she stood watching, staring, not really focusing, a hand-
A hand? What’s a hand doing here?
-reached into the carriage, the strange, long, finger-thingys pressing against... her neck.
Oh, hey. It’s Mister Lero. Wow. The princesses’ viceroy’s here.
I’d always wanted to say hello, maybe thank him for the stuff he did during the plague.
Guess it’s a bit late now, huh?
As she looked on, the human moved his hand to her face, placing his fingers over her eyes. He said a few words, but whatever they were she couldn't hear them. When he took his hand away, her body’s eyes were closed... which was nice. At least she didn’t look so dumb anymore.
Oh, he looks so sad.
I’m sorry, Mister Lero, sir. I didn’t mean to die. Really, I didn’t.
Reaching out to the human, not really thinking about what she was doing, Sherbert’s hoof passed right through her would-be rescuer’s face. As if she’d been hit with an electric shock, she pulled her hoof back, her incorporeality just another reminder that she was no more.
No, she’d passed on, ceased to be. Bereft of life she was now to rest in peace. She’d kicked the bucket, shuffled off her mortal coil, would soon be pushing up the daisies.
Yeah, she’d bucking snuffed it!
Oooh, hey, what’s that?
Woah, so cool! It’s Captain Dash. She’s here- I wonder why...
Oh...
Dammit! Why does it have to be the day I can’t get her autograph?
The girls at work would be so jealous!
It was so surreal. There she was, dead... dead as dead gets, with her own body rapidly cooling, there, right in front of her. And all she could do was just stand here... giggling like a little schoolfilly about missing out on her chance of an autograph.
It wasn’t real.
It couldn’t be.
Could it?
“So, t-this is it then?”
She hadn’t really expected an answer, but when one came it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
“Yes, I’m rather afraid that it is.”
Turning, Sherbert found another mare standing there, right next to her. She shouldn’t be able to stand perched on the rubble like that, should she? Had she been there a second ago? Yeah, she had, she must have been... right? She’d always been there, the last few minutes, the last few years... always, she’d always been there, for as long as Sherbert could remember. Always nearby. Always.
“Who are y-you?”
The mare smiled down at her. A kind smile, a smile that made her feel safe, that told her there was no need to worry, that everything would be alright. Sherbert knew she should be panicking, that she should be scared out of her mind, completely filled with dread and totally unable to speak...
...but she wasn’t. She wasn't the happiest mare in the world, this was true, but just looking at the mare next to her, just by being close to her... it made her feel better. Like she had when she was just a child, and her mom had still been around to gather her up in her arms and hold her close, to tell her that everything was going to be just fine. Back in the days when she believed.
The smile was so pretty, spread across a face of pure white... a white so pure it may as well be glowing. What was definitely glowing though was the mare’s - no, the alicorn’s - mane. Like her tail her mane floated around her, caught in the same ethereal breeze that graced the royal sisters with its touch, pushing the billowing mass of living fire back and forth at its whims.
Embers and small flames leapt and danced as they pulled themselves loose and floated free, some falling onto Sherbert’s own coat. But wherever these escapees touched her, they did not burn her coat, nor scorch her skin. Instead she felt an... essence touching her ever so gently, just as one would feel the gentle touch of a true friend.
“I think you know, my child.”
The mare continued to smile as she spoke. It was a nice smile, a warm smile. Literally, physically, not just figuratively. Warm, so warm. Sherbert could feel the it washing over her, coursing through her, banishing the cold that she felt creeping in around the edges of her soul.
“I am both Design and Dispatch.
I am Delivery and Departure.
I am the Discovery and I am the Doorway.
I was with you when you began your journey,
and I am beside you as it ends.”
Sherbert nodded. That made sense...
...even if it doesn’t.
Well, not who I’d been expecting.
Not exactly sure what I’d been expecting actually.
So... could be worse, I guess
“So, w-was that it? T-twenty three years? It didn’t s-seem very long.”
“Ah, but it was.
You got less than some, that is no lie, but more than others, this is also true.
But, at the end of the day, you got exactly the same as everypony else-”
A gentle forehoof came to rest on Sherbert’s withers, pushing back at the numbness that she hadn't even realised had been creeping its way across her body. The alicorn’s smile was still in place, but now it was one of a kindly parent, or teacher, passing on one of the greatest truths that one’s life could ever impart.
“-you got a lifetime’s worth.”
For a moment the two of them stood in silence as Sherbert let the words sink in.
“So, tell me- what did you like best?”
Such an odd question... and one that the young mare wasn’t sure how to answer. Was it a trick question? It wasn’t the kind of thing that was asked everyday, though the answer was so blindingly obvious.
“Apart from my f-familly?“
The alicorn nodded, her sedate smile returning with a vengeance, as if both the quick response and the way that Sherbert had been so sure of the answer had pleased her greatly.
“Hmmmm. I think... strawberry ice-cream.”
Before her lips had even finished forming the words, the sweet smell of strawberries came to her nose, her tongue tingling as the scent brought about so many happy memories- her childhood, her herd, her...
“An excellent choice."
...but what was it she was missing? What could she not remember? There was something important... something so very, very important.
“So, w-what’s next? Where do w-we go now?”
“What would you like to be next?
Where would you like to go?”
“W-well, somewhere nice... I h-hope.”
From the alicorn’s smile came a feeling of safety and warmth, of love and comfort. Memories of past events she hadn’t thought about in years washed over her, feelings she she hadn't let herself touch upon since she had been a filly... since her own mother had-
“My mom! Will m-my mom there?”
“Would you like her to be?”
“Y-yes. V-very much so.”
“Then so it shall be.”
Thoughts of her long departed mother filled her mind, memories she had pushed away for so long came to her, racing from memory to memory, place to place, all the happy moments of her fillyhood, long before-
Her alicorn companion had turned away, a large white forehoof waving at somepony over on the other side of the road. Standing at the hooves of a mint green unicorn, Sherbert could see a small, cream coloured filly with a huge, toothy grin and a bouncy mane of orange and gold, waving at them. Without thinking about what she was doing, Sherbert lifted a hoof and waved back.
Whomever this kid was - and she was a odd looking kid, though very cute in slightly exotic way - she must have been able to see them both as her waving only increased in enthusiasm. The adult mare - her mother surely, if the way that their bright, golden eyes matched so perfectly was anything to go by - pulled her daughter close and-
Cherry Fountain! How could I have forgotten about her?
In a panic, Sherbert caught the alicorn’s hoof with her own, demanding her attention.
“My d-d-daughter. Will she b-be okay? She’s only little. She w-won’t understand.”
As the alicorn took back her hoof, she used it to pull Sherbert closer, the warmth emanating from their contact seeping through the young mare’s skin, bringing with it waves of calm and reassurance.
“In time she will.
Not today, nor tomorrow, but eventually it will all work out for her.
Cherry Fountain is a fine young filly, and your herdmates are all good ponies.
You chose well, they’ll do you proud.
I promise you- it will not be as hard for her as it was for you.
And you will see her again some day, though not for a long, long time.
Of that you should be glad.
Now, come. We must go.”
“G-go? Where?”
All around them the edges of the world started to fade away.
It began in the distance, with the towers and the streets and the buildings. Then the shops and outdoor cafes, with their shoppers and onlookers both... they just faded away, as if a fog had rolled over them, obscuring them from view before it rolled away again, leaving nothing in behind in their place.
As the effect came closer each of the bystanders gradually ceased to be, losing both colour and form, like a picture being un-painted, a vibrant world being un-made, eventually a blank canvas being all that remained.
Soon the collapsed scaffolding and the many ponies that bustled about it were gone, the cart following it within seconds- the lifeless body and the human that watched over it disappearing from view.
“Somewhere nice, my child.
Somewhere very nice.”
In the end just Sherbert Dabble and her alicorn companion remained, standing side by side, alone in a world filled with nothing but all-encompassing white.
And then they too were gone.
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The part from Sherbert perspective was really touching.
Interesting... I would like to see this aspect of Sweetie expanded further.
A Sandman reference - I approve.
The first time I heard Bright Eyes was during Watership Down and it's stayed with me ever since.
Death of Ponies is annoyed God is doing his job.
Fusticorn, really? I mean seriously, you went there?
I did like her inner monologue as she realized she was dead, that was pretty funny.
That was beautiful. I'm very curious what sweet spirit's cutie mark and special talent will be. Being able to see the maker seems like quite the ability but I'm not sure how she would use it.
Marvelous, simply marvelous.
Every chapter you add is a door to so much more, it truly is exciting opening any new addition to your story.(well, nearly everything) I cant wait to see where this leads.
So did Lero say a prayer for the departed pony?
Well done. Reminds me a bit of "Of the Valley" by archonix (which is in my favorites) but without the complex imagery.
That was stunningly sad, yet amazingly beautiful... well done!
She is an ex-pony. Nail her to a perch and stick her in the cage, someone'll be silly enough to buy it. Just don't go to Ispwitch, it doesn't make a good Bolton. Notlob. Both.
I wonder how I'd react to my own death. My aunt's favorite thing to say about me is that, if you were to ask me to find the penny in the corner of a round room, I'd sit down dead center and laugh. I wonder if that'd be my reaction to seeing my own death? Would I look back upon a life of happiness and love, or one of loneliness and despair?
I'll go with the safest bet, I think. Either God is real, and I've screwed myself out of Heaven for being Agnostic, or he isn't real, and I'll be laughing at the infinite limbo. Either way, I die laughing.
Star Song could see the dead and alicorn Faust, I wonder if that will be useful later on. Also, is she really the reaper or was she just passing by and did his job for him?
Fausticorn as a psychopomp. Makes sense. She who writes the character's first entrance must also pen the final departure... unless the episodes have different writers, but there's no need to throw the metaphor on the rack.
In any case, very nicely done.
Very enjoyable. I love how Lyra just rolls with it.
I genuinely wonder sometimes how Lauren feels when she sees fan-fictions where her ponysona is portrayed as God.
5439548
Useful? Maybe and maybe not but, I suspect, related to her destiny. She is the child of two worlds, after all, two different dimensions and laws of reality. Who knows how touched she could be by the magic that makes her existence possible in defiance of all logic?
This was a wonderful chapter - sad, but no less wonderful.
...and manly tears were shed.
I only wish my end could be as nice.
5430956
What's wrong with Fausticorn?