//------------------------------// // Preparation // Story: The Life and Times of Benjamin Inventor (Part 3) // by Bsherrin //------------------------------// Preparation In a field one summer's day a Grasshopper was hopping about, chirping and singing to its heart's content. An Ant passed by, struggling to drag an ear of corn to the nest. "Why not come and chat with me," said the Grasshopper, "instead of working so hard?" "I am helping to save food for the winter," said the Ant, "and suggest you do the same." "Why worry about winter?" said the Grasshopper; “We have plenty of food right now." But the Ant went on its way and continued its toil. When winter came the Grasshopper had no food and found itself dying of hunger, while it saw the ants distributing every day corn and grain from what they had collected in the summer. Moral: It is best to prepare for the days of necessity. “Tales for Foals”, The Equestrian Encyclopedia of General Knowledge We talked a little on the way back, mainly about Fall’s new nephew which Spring and Bull had named Benjamin Brickle, thank you very much. I knew Fall well enough to know how happy she was and she hummed along as she flew. I listened a moment, then sang: I love to go awandering, Along the mountain track, And when I go, I love to sing, My knapsack on my back! Valderee, valderah, Valderee, valderah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, Valderee, valderah, My knapsack on my back! I love to wander by the stream, That dances in the sun, So joyously, it calls to me, Come join my happy song! Valderee, valderah, Valderee, valderah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, Valderee, valderah, Come join my happy song! Overhead, the skylarks wing, They never rest at home, But just like me, they love to sing, As o'er the world we roam! Valderee, valderah, Valderee, valderah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, Valderee, valderah, As o'er the world we roam! Fall laughed and joined me on the chorus, both of us shouting out the “ah-ha-ha’s”. When we finished, I said, “That was your favorite song as a filly, Fall. You used to sing it when you were putting something together.” Fall nodded, pleased I’d remembered. Nothing for it, I thought. Telling Fall would be as hard as telling AJ and the family. “Fall, I’m going away for a time next Third.” “Where, Boss?” “The Griffon Lands. To fulfill my Purpose.” Fall froze, then looked over at me, eyes wide. “You’ll…you’ll come back, right? You won’t leave me?” I sighed. “I’ll do my best, hon, I truly will.” Fall turned back to the front window and set her mouth in an expression I knew well, looking exactly like her mother when Ma was exasperated. “Price, Fall, Price. We’ve talked about this.” “Send somepony else!” “Oh, Fall, don’t be such a numbskull! You understand responsibility well enough now not to say such things.” Fall drooped. “I know, it’s just that…well, I don’t want you to leave, that’s all.” “You’re a young mare now, Fall. You know some of the World and how magic works.” “Take me with you!” “This is for me to do alone. You know that, too. Don’t talk nonsense, Punkin’.” “It’s not nonsense, it’s not! It’s just…” and Fall started crying. I took the controls, reached into my pouch and handed her my last handkerchief. Fall waved it off and pulled one from her own pouch. “Well, at least you’ve learned something at the Smithsons.” “You’re not funny, Boss!” “Yes I am. Knock, knock, Fall.” “What?” said Fall, wiping her eyes and nose. “Knock, knock.” “Ah…who’s there?” “Interrupting Cow.” “Interrupting Cow, wh…?” “Moooooo!” I yelled before Fall finished her question. Fall started laughing and couldn’t stop. “That was so dumb! You’re so dumb sometimes, Ben!” I laughed along. Fall was a little better after that but still sad, of course. We stayed silent the remainder of the trip, each lost in our own thoughts. Fall landed on a dime right before 9, stopped the engine, then turned to me. “Boss?” “Speak.” “Say ‘pruuuuuunes’.” “Pruuuu…” I started. Fall stopped me with a sweet, gentle, loving Ren kiss. She pulled back. “I love you,” she said. “And I love you, Punkin’. I’ll see you at Year’s End.” “’Bye.” “Good-bye, hon,” I said and shut the door. Fall taxied and took off, flew over the field and waggled her wings, then headed back to Hoofington. I took a breath and looked around. It was perfect day, warm but not too hot. I could Feel the ground under my hooves and the sky above me. Yes, it was a good day to be alive. I trotted to Sugar Cube Corner and the door signaled my entrance. “Right with you!” I heard Pinkie yell from the kitchen. I also heard her stop pedaling Fall’s kneading machine and I was glad it had survived Pinkie using it all this time. Pinkie bounced out of the back, saw me and leapt over the counter to land with her forehooves on my shoulders. “Ben! You’re back!! How’d it go, how’d it go?!?!” “Very well indeed, Pinkie,” I said, holding her left forehoof with my right. “Jon’s family welcomed him back into the fold and then threw a party even you would have appreciated.” “Yay! I knew you could do it, Ben, I knew it! Mmmmwah!” yelled Pinkie as she kissed me on the mouth and started hopping around the room. As always, she tasted like cotton candy. Pinkie stopped in mid-air, then landed and turned to me. “But what about me? Do you think his family will like me?” she asked anxiously. “They’ll love you, Pinkie, particularly if you take a dozen of those famous cream horns of yours for Jon’s mother Mrs. Smithson. Fall, Jon and I all talked you up, too. Jon asked if you’d please take the 8 o’clock on 11th. He’ll meet you at the station. “Oh, gosh, oh, gosh, oh GOSH, I’m going to meet his family. What’ll I do, what’ll I do?!?” asked Pinkie, cramming her forehooves into her mouth. “You’ll be yourself, of course. Jon will help you, never fear. We all must go through this misery when we’re engaged, you know.” “You weren’t miserable, Ben.” “Oh, really?” I said dryly. “You weren’t! AJ told us you loved meeting all her relatives.” “Then I’m sure you’ll enjoy it as well, Pinkie, since you’re certainly more…sociable than I’ll ever be.” “Hey! You’re right!! I am sociable!” And with that, Pinkie hopped back to the kitchen, giggling all the while. I’d turned to leave when she stuck her head out of the kitchen again. “What day did you say, Ben?” “11th” “Okay, thanks,” and she vanished again. I opened the door. “What time?” Pinkie yelled from the kitchen. “8 o’clock! In the morning!” I yelled back. Sheesh, what a ditz. Lovable, though. I trotted to the Post Office and visited with Summer Breeze a few minutes, then headed to the workshop. Summer Breeze confirmed that yes, today was Derpy’s day off, so I thought I’d stop by and see how she was doing since it was on the way. I knocked on Derpy’s door and she opened it. She looked pleased to see me and started to invite me in. “Who is it, Luscious?” I heard a resonant tenor call out from the kitchen. “It’s Benjamin Apple, Spark,” said Derpy, calling over her shoulder. “Please come in, Ben,” Derpy said, voice as pleasant as ever. “I thank you, Miss Doo. I just wanted to see how you were. I won’t stay if you have, ah, company,” I said, arching one eyebrow and looking at Derpy sideways. “Well, I…” started Derpy. A handsome cream-colored pegasus stallion came racing out of the kitchen, bag of chips in one hoof. “Hey, it’s that unicorn wizard everypony is talking about! Hiya, Mr. Wizard,” said Spark, gripping my right hoof with a hoof covered in potato chip grease. “Bright Spark’s my name. Wow, it’s great to meetcha! Storm, well, he can’t say enough about ya, Wind Rider, too and even Rainbow Dash and she don’t have much good to say about anypony, at least not until lately.” I started to reply when Spark said, “Say, could you look at my left wing? The base of it hurts somethin’ fierce.” Spark didn’t wait for an answer, just turned so his left side faced me, tossing the potato chips bag to Derpy. “Spark, I don’t think…” started poor Derpy. “Of course, sir,” I said. “If you’d spread your wings, please?” Spark did and his span matched Storm’s easily; a beautiful set of wings. No wonder he got the fillies. Well cared for, too. I extended my healing senses and found a very small muscle tear. Spark’s wing muscles were so massive he could still fly although I bet he was in pain sure enough. “Spark, you’re right hooved, yes?” “Yessir, that I am.” “You’re overcompensating on your left turns with your left wing,” I said as I fixed the tear and reduced the swelling. “Try some strength exercises before you go back to aerobatics and make sure you stretch every single time before you fly. In the meantime, nothing fancy for a week or so, all right?” Spark flexed his left wing, then flapped both. “Say, that’s great!” He grabbed my right forehoof and pumped it up and down. “Thanks, Mr. Wizard. Oh, hey, I gotta go to work! Good to meetcha, Mr. Wizard. By, hon, love you!” With that, Spark zinged off into the sky. I looked over at Derpy. Derpy stood holding that bag of potato chips, blushing a fierce pink. I raised my eyebrow again and looked as bland as possible. “’Luscious’?” “He’s really very sweet,” said Derpy. “Oh, yes, I’m sure, no doubt about it. Most likely it was his gentle temperament and reserved personality which attracted you to him in the first place.” Derpy giggled, and then really laughed. I grinned right along with her, and then went to wash the grease off of my hooves. While I was washing off, I called out to Derpy, using her Private Name. “Mary Kate?” “Maker? What is it? You sound sad.” Derpy came up behind me as I stood at the sink and put her right forehoof around my waist. Huh, leave it up to somepony as sensitive as Derpy to pick up on that. I dried my hooves, turned, and then put my forehoof around her waist as we walked back to the parlor. “I have to go away for awhile next Third. I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve enjoyed knowing you and how much I appreciate our friendship. I love you, Mary Kate, and am glad you’re in my life.” “This is what you talked about that Winter morning, isn’t it?” I just nodded. Derpy reared, threw her hooves around me and buried her muzzle in my neck. “You’d better come back, you’d just better! I want you to deliver my foals and…and nopony else can preen like you, either! You’d just better…come…” And then she broke down. A day for tears, I thought, and held her tighter. Derpy didn’t cry for long, then cleaned up in the bathroom. When she came out, she was fine again. We visited a little longer, then I went to leave. “Each day to the fullest,” I told her, kissing her on both sides of her muzzle and touching her nose with mine. “Each day to the fullest,” Derpy echoed, returning the Pegasus Farewell. “Not a bad way to live, Ben. Preen me later today?” “Oh, ho, so I’m still good for something, am I?” Derpy smacked me in the shoulder. “You know better than that! Do Spark, too, huh?” I sighed, rolled my eyes up to the sky, then looked back at my beautiful pegasus friend. “Yes, of course, Derpy. I’ll see you this afternoon at 3.” I waved good-bye and headed to the workshop. Now, I thought, it was time to gather allies. Alliances Hence he does not strive to ally himself with all and sundry, nor does he foster the power of other states. He carries out his own secret designs, keeping his antagonists in awe. Thus he is able to capture their cities and overthrow their kingdoms. “The Art of War”, Appendix B, The Equestrian Encyclopedia of General Knowledge An ecstatic Jon came back on 15th with an even more ecstatic Pinkie. The visit had gone exceptionally well. Mrs. Smithson said Pinkie was mishpacha already and Mrs. Smithson couldn’t wait to play with her little pink grandfoals. The stallions adored her, too. I thought Jon worked before, but now that he had his family back again and was engaged, he went into overdrive. I helped him with the plane for Lord Cecil and we had it finished in a month. It was about the same size as the old aeroplane but had an aluminum skin and frame, hydraulic controls and a more powerful engine. We had her up 170 mph with nary a vibration during the test flight. And she was exactly what I needed. I also asked Jon to please get with the Lambert sisters to start planning the cider factory. I talked to AJ later that night when she and I were getting ready for bed. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll take Scoots up for couple of hours, then fly to Muncy Valley, maybe visit the family in Appleoosa, then turn around and head for Lord Cecil’s. Depending on how long it takes Lord Cecil to learn how to fly, I should be back on the 28th or 29th, maybe 1st of Ninth. I’ll send you a telegram if I’m going to be later than that.” “’Kpllth,” said AJ who was brushing her teeth. I heard AJ spit, then she leaned against the bathroom door. “You gonna tell me what’s really goin’ on when you get back, Partner?” I looked at her, then away. AJ came and put a hoof over my shoulders. “Whatever it is, we can face it together, Hon.” I shook my head violently enough the tears on my muzzle flew off. “Maker, what is it?” asked AJ, gripping me harder. I cleared my throat, blew my nose, then said, “Are you a Level 6, Hon?” “7. So’s Granny.” “What? I didn’t know that. Well, now, that does help.” I took a deep breath. “Yes, Protector of the Realm, I will tell you everything when I get back, starting with my arrival in Canterlot. Then we’ll tell the family together.” “Will I like it?” “No, ma’am, you will not.” “Well, we’ll handle it, no matter what it is. C’mon, I’ll give ya the Special.” I wasn’t about to turn that down. But I knew I couldn’t delay any longer telling AJ and the family I was going to the Griffon Lands and wasn’t sure if I’d come back or not. Each day to the fullest, I reminded myself as I lay down, each day to the fullest. Scootaloo raced up on her scooter right at 7. She was at the filly stage where she looked awkward but wasn’t. I thoroughly enjoyed her company. “’Morning, Mr. Apple!” she said, parking her scooter against the hangar. “Is this the new plane? Wow, she’s beautiful!” “A completely different feel than the Apple Bloom, Scoots, but I think you’ll enjoy flying her. Let me take us off, then I’ll had the controls over to you.” Scoots was full of praise as we strapped in and ran through the simple checklist. I taxied around and we took off. I handed over the controls and let Scoots get a feel of the hydraulics. “Hey, it takes almost nothing to turn now,” said Scoots, twisting the plane back and forth. “Neat.” “Ready to shake her down?” “Yes, sir!” “Give me a full 45º bank and circle, then.” Scoots did, grinning all the while. “Good! Same, wing rock, left, right.” Scoots got that one flawlessly as well. “Crab the tracks,” I said, after looking down. We flew along a good 20 minutes, Scoots keeping the railroad tracks dead center. “Good, Scoots, very good. Now get us some altitude, do a lazy eight and head back to the landing strip.” We rose to 4,000 feet, did a lazy eight, then powered her down to as slow as she’d go. She still didn’t stall at 45 mph but would at 40 which made her very sound. We were about 10 minutes out when I checked my watch, then waved a hoof out of the window. “Scootaloo, I want to congratulate you. You’ve flown 150 hours and have earned your wings.” I pulled some silver pegasus wings I’d asked Cutter to make out of my pouch and pinned them on Scoot’s vest. “You’re now a Pilot. You can teach others, fly freight and carry passengers, too.” “Gosh, Mr. Apple, I…oh, wow, I can’t wait to tell the others! Thank you, thank you so much!” “WHOOOOO! GO, SCOOOOOTS!” came from outside the plane. Scootaloo stuck her head out the window and there was today’s Weather Patrol flying mightily to keep up. They shouted congratulations and encouragement, then veered off after Scoots, grinning, shouted and waved. “This is the greatest day of my life, Mr. Apple!” “Take ‘er down, Scoots, and show me that landing. She did, landing even better than Fall (and better than me, actually). Scoots taxied to a stop, then shut off the engine. We both unbuckled, then when we were outside, Scoots threw herself into my forehooves. “I’m a pilot, I’m a pilot!” “Yes, and I’m going to recommend you as a test pilot to Smithson and Sons when they start building planes.” “Ya-hooo!” Scootaloo yelled, clapping her front hooves together. “I know what I want to do with my life!! Well, other than work with the Crusaders, of course.” “Well, I’m off to deliver this one to Lord Cecil, but never fear, Scoots; Jon will build another just like her and when that’s ready, you can fly her whenever you like.” Scoots hugged me again, then raced to her scooter. “I’m going to tell Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle! ‘Bye, Mr. Apple, and thank you again.” “Yes, miss. Oh, and Scoots…?” “Yes, sir?” I used a touch of magic and pulled off a hidden label on the aeroplane’s nose cone. “May I present the Scootaloo 1?” Scoots put both hooves up to her mouth and squeed, hugged me again, and then raced off on her scooter to tell her friends, the Three Pests no longer. Heh, it was fun being a mechanic, it truly was. I climbed back aboard, wound her up and took off for Muncy Valley. It turned out to be harder to find than I thought. I followed the rail line, pushing the plane as fast as she’d go. I kept checking my water and stopped in Dodge City to fill up. I visited with Tin Star, learned the lowlifes had confessed and were long since gone. I had a quick lunch and Tin Star caught me up on all the family news. That done, I asked directions to Muncy Valley. “It’s about a five hour train ride from here, Cuz, on t’other side of Appleloosa. If’n ya follow the tracks, you should see it.” “Then I’m on my way. A pleasure as always, Tin Star.” I waved good-bye, then took off and headed for the tracks. I wasn’t as good at crabbing as Scoots but I managed. I waggled my wings at the Applejack making a freight run and Coal gave me a long blow on the whistle. I do love those 4-4-0s, I thought. I decided right then I’d buy the Applejack back from the railroad if they ever replaced her. Hmm, I’d need to start a museum eventually. Can’t have locomotives sitting in the front yard of the Homestead. A little before 3 I found what I thought was Muncy Valley. I circled it once, and then landed outside of town on a dirt road. As I opened the aeroplane’s door and right on schedule, here came the local law, another sheriff with two deputies. “Here, now, whaddya mean landing that contraption in the middle of the road?” said the puffing sheriff, a very portly Earth pony. “Greetings to you, sir. Benjamin Apple, at your service. And as to that, well, I’m afraid I saw no other convenient place to land.” “Saayyy, this is one o’ them flyin’ machines I read about in Mechanic Monthly, ain’t it?” An amateur mechanic. Excellent. “It is.” “Tell ya what, Mr. Apple, you take me for a ride and I’ll let you park your aeroplane wherever you like as long as you’re here.” I held the door. “Welcome aboard, Sheriff! The right seat, if you please.” I took off and flew toward the sheriff’s house. I banked the plane so he could yell down to his equally portly wife. “Hey, you old mare! Lookit me! I’m a’flyin’!” “Barnabas Brickle, you come down from there at once!” yelled the fat mare, puffing from the back yard to the front and shaking a hoof at the plane. The sheriff pulled himself back in and laughed and laughed. “You married, Mr. Apple?” he asked as we headed back to town. “Yes, indeed, Sheriff, and well married, too. Just a moment. Are you any relation to Marguerite Brickle in Ponyville?” The sheriff nodded. “Ma’s my sister, Mr. Apple. Hey, now, Benjamin Apple! Of Apple Manufacturing! You’re the one who gave my niece Fall her start!” I nodded. “Which proved one of the most fortunate and fulfilling decisions of my entire life.” “Sure, I remember her talkin’ about you two years ago at the reunion. I’d forgotten until just now.” “She’s the star of Smithson and Sons now, Sheriff.” “Well, ain’t it a small World! Say, what’re you doing in Muncy Valley anyway?” I had a story ready and it was actually true. “The Ponyville Stable of Commerce is always looking for new trading partners. I had the plane, so they volunteered me to come and visit here.” “Hmm, don’t know about that. We’s mainly retirees. We have a filly who weaves some and a kinda strange stallion who reads them weird cards. That’s about it.” “I would like to meet the weaver, if I may. My friend Rarity runs a boutique and values good material.” I landed the plane a little closer to town. The sheriff directed me and I taxied up a side road to a good sized barn, then I backed the plane into it. “We have dances here twice a month but you can use it for your plane the next week or so. We can lock the doors, too, just in case,” the sheriff said as we got off of the plane. “Thank you, Sheriff Brickle. That eases my mind.” “You got a place to stay?” I pointed back to the plane. “I usually sleep in the plane. It has a pull down bed.” “Shoooot, why don’t ya stay with the missus and me? It’s just us now that the fillies are gone.” “Most generous, Sheriff, I thank you.” “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to Marcia, then we can head home for supper.” We walked down the dusty main street, turned right at the end and stopped by a small cottage. I recognized it as Marcia O’Reilly’s. The sheriff knocked but there was no answer. “Eh, looks like she’s out tendin’ to some of her old ponies again. Such a sweet filly. Sits a death watch with’em, too, particularly if they’re alone and don’t have no relatives.” I just nodded. Death chose well but I still wasn’t sure how I’d broach the conversation he wanted Marcia as his Apprentice. “Well, you can see her tomorrow, I guess. C’mon, I want you to meet the old mare.” And so I did. Gwenn Brickle was decidedly grim about my taking her husband of 43 years up in “some flyin’ thingamajig” but I soon mollified her since I talked about Fall throughout supper. Once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop. I started with her building the racer, talked about our time with the aristocrats which caused gales of laughter and ended with my giving her the plane patents. “Well, I Suwannee, Mr. Apple!” said Gwenn. “Aren’t them things worth a pile o’bits?” I nodded. “Yes, ma’am, they are, but when you outsource…” I was about to give some sort of explanation about cooperation between workshops when I realized it wasn’t true. I also realized I missed Fall more than I ever imagined. I used my handkerchief to wipe away a couple of tears. “Apologies, Sheriff, Mrs. Brickle.” Both nodded as I put my handkerchief away. “The reason I gave Fall those patents is because I love her as if she were my own and I want her to succeed. And because I miss her so, when she opens her own business, if she’ll work with me, I can still see her from time to time.” Mrs. Brickle stood up and patted my muzzle, reminding me strongly of Mrs. Grass. “We have fillies, too, Mr. Apple.” We played a few rounds of gin, then went to bed around my usual time. I thanked my host and hostess and both wished me a good night. As I drifted off, I wondered what Fall was doing. My last thought was of Airlie. “Blood, pony.” I looked around to see who was speaking. There on a flat rock was a puma, her tan, muscled form stretched out in the Moonlight. “I beg your pardon, Sleek One?” Magnificent! The puma licked her paw. “The land needs blood. Blood and magic.” “The Griffon Lands?” The puma sniffed. “I know not what name you give it, pony. I just know there is a sickness here that offends me. You are a healer. You must cure it with blood and magic. That’s the only way.” “Why blood?” The puma gave the cat equivalent of a shrug. “Magic A is magic A, pony,” she answered, and then was gone. I called after her, then turned. The full Moon shone on a vast, black plain. There was no life there. The soil was sterile and the anti-life was spreading. It crept toward my hooves. “Blooooood,” said the Wind. I woke up, the rising Sun shining in the pleasant bedroom window. Swell, another dream. I ran through a T’ai Chi short form, then used the outhouse and washed off in the washbasin. I opened the window, scrubbed the room, turned the mattress, cleaned the sheets, remade the bed and polished the paneling, floor and furniture. I walked out to find both Brickles up and ready for breakfast. “’Mornin’, Mr. Apple! Sleep well?” “As if I were in my own bed, Sheriff.” “After breakfast we’ll try Marcia’s again.” I nodded my thanks. Around 8 we found ourselves in front of Marcia’s. The sheriff knocked and in a few seconds Marcia answered the door. “Why, Sheriff! Good morning to you. Is there some sort of problem?” “Not at all, Marcia. I just wanted you to meet Benjamin Apple from Ponyville. He’d like a look at your weaving.” I shook a size 5 hoof. “Oh, of course! Welcome to Muncy Valley, Mr. Apple.” “A pleasure, Miss O’Reilly.” “Please come in. Sheriff?” “Nah, I’m for work else the deputies slack off. I’ll see you for supper tonight, Mr. Apple.” “Thank you, Sheriff.” I walked into a pleasant five room cottage, the room off to the side dominated by a floor loom. Marcia had me wait in the living room and starting bringing out various swatches of fabric and some complete garments. The quality was exceptional and even the dyes were impressive. When I asked, Marcia said she used local plants where she could and imported the rest. “I don’t suppose you have any capes for stallions, do you, Miss O’Reilly?” I said, half-joking. “Oh, yes, sir. Just a moment, please.” Marcia went into a back room and brought out a black wool cape with a red satin lining. I felt my ears perk forward and my eyes widen slightly. It was a dream cape, exactly the kind I’d always wanted. Marcia handed it to me and I used magic to swirl it over my shoulders and haunches. It was a perfect fit and I admired myself in a full-length mirror in the living room. “Miss O’Reilly?” “Yes, sir?” “I must have this cape. I must. I must!” I insisted, sounding like Rarity for a moment. “Of course, Mr. Apple. Let’s see, that one is 100 bits,” said Marcia, checking a list she had next to the loom. “Sold!” I yelled, and wrote out a check for 110 bits. Then I propped my left forehoof on a chair, raised an imaginary sword with the other and started the cape fluttering with magic. I quoted from the Ancient Equestrian play Death and the General, a play where a mare Death comes to confront an arrogant general and ends up his lover. “Let her come and find me,” I intoned. “For I stand at the head of my troops. What will Death do to me here?” Marcia laughed and clapped her front hooves together, then raced into the back again. She came out wearing a black cloak with a hood and delivered the next line in a voice half an octave lower than her speaking voice. “So, then, General, do you think all your collected might, your slaves, your mares, your army will save you from my touch?” Still acting the part, I shook my head and lowered my imaginary sword. “Nay, Lady Death, but I would bargain with you. I knew calling you thus would bring you to me.” “What would you have of me then, mortal?” “A game, my Lady. I win, I get two more years. You win, I come with you this very day.” “A deal then,” said Marcia, swirling her cloak perfectly. “Name your game and I will defeat you!” We both broke out laughing then and collapsed into chairs. “Wonderful! Well done, Miss O’Reilly!” I certainly did like this mare. Marcia, still laughing, said, “I wonder if the real Death would enjoy that play?” “He does, at that. He’s actually played a few games in his time. Don’t play him in poker, though.” Whup. I realized what I’d said only after I said it. I looked over at Marcia and wondered if she’d run shrieking out the door. But no, she just looked thoughtful. “A grey alicorn in a white, three-piece suit? Sad eyes?” she said, tentatively. “You’ve seen him!” I said, astonished. Marcia nodded, then stood and folded her black cloak. “More than once. When my old ponies die, I sometimes see Death come and retrieve their spirits.” Marcia looked up at me. “You don’t seem surprised, Mr. Apple. When I’ve told a couple of other ponies, well…they just patted my head and said I was good filly for sitting death watches.” I stood and took off my cape which Marcia folded for me. “Miss O’Reilly, while I would indeed like for Rarity to look at your weaving, I came here for another reason.” I took a deep breath. “Death would like for you to become his Apprentice. I volunteered to, shall we say, test the waters with you first.” Marcia sat, my cape still in her lap. “Death’s Apprentice. What would I have to do, exactly?” “Ah, well, unfortunately we never…” “I WILL TAKE IT FROM HERE, BEN, SHALL I?” came a familiar voice. I turned and much to my relief there stood Death. I gave him a half bow, then said, “Miss Marcia O’Reilly, may I present the Avatar of Death?” “Ohhh,” said Marcia, staring at Death with wide eyes. “You’re so handsome! You’ve come and gone so quickly before, I never got a chance to notice.” Death actually blushed! I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it. Who knew Avatars could blush? Of course, he had manifested on this Plain, but still…! I will never, ever let him live this down, I thought gleefully. “THANK YOU, MISS O’REILLY,” said Death, recovering. “MAY I SPEAK TO YOU OF YOUR FUTURE?” That was my cue. “Exit, stage left. Miss O’Reilly, Death, I’ll leave you two to get acquainted. Miss O'Reilly, if you’d put my cape in my left saddlebag with the swatches? Thank you.”