//------------------------------// // Animation // Story: Second Chances and the Cost of Life // by Amaranthine Thought //------------------------------//             It thundered over Canterlot.  The rain poured down that night, lightning drawing the dark city in bright whites and pure blacks.             Canterlot had a yearly thunderstorm, and most of the populace were of the mind that the pegasi had overdone it that year.  The rain poured down and the lighting and thunder shook their houses.  Nopony was outside.             The pegasi managing the storm were concerned.  The thunder was far greater than anticipated, and the lightning was behaving in just the wrong way.  They were scrambling to prevent a hit, but the lightning seemed to always avoid their effort, the charge growing and growing, until it finally became too much.             “Pull back!”             “But it will hit the city!”             “Pull ba,”             Two of the team members were outright disintegrated from the bolt, and three more were struck from the sky and fell, smoking.  The remaining two, the new member and the team leader, were shocked and horrified.             The storm rumbled at them, and the leader grimaced as the other began panicking.             “Back to base!”             “My brother!”             “Back to base!  We need help for this one!”             The pair flew away, hurrying to try and find help.  Of the three that fell, only one survived the impact, bouncing off a roof, the other two slamming into the ground.             Both hit the graveyard, one impacting near Twilight’s grave, not quite dead, and the other hit a gravestone.             The sight wasn’t pretty.             If one were to look closely, a frail green mist flowed from them, and collected over Twilight’s grave.  Then it entered the dirt, and for several moments, nothing happened.             Then the earth heaved.  Screaming came from under the dirt, and it pushed upward again, before collapsing slightly.             A hoof burst free, and Twilight desperately fought her way to the surface.  Once free of the dirt, she shook herself to rid herself of some of it and stared up at the rain.  She noted several things wrong immediately.             The first was that she wasn’t feeling the rain at all.  The second was that she couldn’t breathe, and yet didn’t suffer and was able to vocalize.  The last was that she could see her front hooves, and one of them was bone up to her knee.             Now, let’s begin. She heard, her own voice echoing in her head.             “Hang on!  Something’s wrong!” she yelled, “My leg…”             What is wrong?             “My leg is bone, and…”  Twilight kept looking at herself, and one thought, or several, came to mind.  Burned.  Ripped.  Decayed.  She was black, her fur falling from the rain and showing black necrotic skin.  Gashes covered her, bits of her flesh missing.  She could see exposed bone in many places, particularly her left side; she could count her ribs.             “I’m dead, except I’m not!  This isn’t alive!  I can’t feel the rain, I can’t breathe in, what have you turned me into!?”             Your soul has only one home it may return to.  Your body.  It has suffered from your death and decayed during your absence, but it is animate.  It would take much, much more, for me to fully renew you.             “I want this fixed!”             Then allow me to outline what you will be doing for me.  Focus on the power I granted you.  The first spell should summon; do so.             Twilight hesitated, and then tried.  A black urn appeared before her, topped with a horse skull.  An ornate zero was on the front of it, and Twilight didn’t appreciate the way the skull seemed to leer.             This is the soul jar.  It is where you will be storing lost souls until you return them to me.  The number on the front is an indication of how many you can carry.             That jar can hold ten at most.  Work hard and well, and your jar will enlarge.             I will guide you in your first collections; I have already made the circumstances that will assist.  Look to the left.             She did so and gagged, seeing the pegasus that had hit the gravestone.  He was almost in two parts.             Use the magic to find the soul, and then pull it free and place it into the jar.             The knowledge of how she would do so came to her, and she focused, her horn glowed a faint blue.  The soul looked just like the pony, though it seemed distressed and depressed.             She pulled it toward her, and then guided it to the jar.  Once near it, the skull opened, and sucked the soul inside, the numeral changing.             Good.  No mistakes; you are a natural.             “What am I doing though?”             Souls need help to find their rest.  Reapers help guide them to their afterlife.  Otherwise, reality would be covered in the souls of the dead.  Behind you; a troubled soul.             She noted the other pegasus and went to him.  To her shock, his eye opened and saw her.             “Help…” he whispered.             Pull the soul free.             “But he’s alive!  I can’t,”             He is dead.  Suffering.  Pull the soul free, and end his pain.             Twilight closed her eyes, and flinched at the sigh when she did so.  She opened her eyes to see the soul, and it was agitated.             “I can’t be dead!  My brother!  He’ll be all alone, please!”             Put him in the jar.             “But,”             It is not your place to judge.  Put him in the jar.             Twilight did so, unable to resist the voice.  She shook herself when she had control again, and had a faint feeling that she wasn’t going to have much choice in these matters.             “…”             You are troubled.             “My job is… killing ponies?”             No.  You find them when they die, or are about to, and guide them. It is not your place to determine the end of life, only that you allow it to find rest.             Some souls are lost, and come without a whisper.  Some are troubled, and desire to live on.  Some deny their death, and a rare few cling to unlife.  All must be helped to their rest, willingly or not.             Dismiss the jar.             Twilight did so, and looked around before heading toward the gate.  She thought as she walked, and then asked, “I want a living body.  I want my own body back, and not this… When can you fix it?”             You shall address me as master.             Twilight had meant to ask him why she should.  What came out instead was, “Yes Master.”             She shook her head, concerned at how death seemed able to override her will.  “… Can I live again?  Properly?”             Yes.  Should you collect enough.             “What does Master mean?”  Twilight grimaced.  It seemed that whenever she referred to death, it came out as Master and made her sound stupid.  She would have to be careful where other ponies could hear her.             I prize a good worker.  As you accomplish my tasks, I will grant you a few coins.  Enough coins, and I will rebuild you a little more.             Your flesh renewed, you lungs refilled, your heart beating again. Your current body is barely enough to house your soul; don't damage it overtly, or you may find yourself in debt.             “I was only dead for four days.  That isn’t enough time for everything to go bad.”             You died a full year ago.  Tomorrow is the anniversary of your death.             “…What!?”             I pulled you from your rest ten times.  It was only the tenth that you responded to my calls.  Every other time, you sought your rest and refused to speak or even move.  Every time I pulled you up, I waited a time before trying again.             It also took two days for your soul to fully reclaim its home, and I needed to rebuild it at least somewhat.  You were… less than whole, and your home was not ready to be lived in.             So I put your leg back, connected your bones, and rid you of any flesh eating life forms.  A free gift from me, so that I could fulfil my part of this contract.             “A year…  How many souls do I need to start fixing myself?”             … Many.  A great many.  I do not hold dominion over life, and it will take effort to remake you.  Take it step by step, and you will eventually be whole.  Or I could offer you something else.             If you accept more power, then you will become ethereal.  Your form will be rebuilt, but that is not life.  You would be a strong soul, but you will not have a body.             Twilight shook her head.  “I don’t agree with what Master says is ‘alive’, but it is a start.  If master say that I can earn my life again, then I will do so.”             She stopped by the gate, staring at it.  It had a good lock on it, and Twilight found herself stuck.             Nothing stops a reaper.  Know that you transcend mere matter, and pass through.             Twilight hesitated.  There was no spell that time, only the knowledge that she could just walk through it.  She stared for a few moments longer and then closed her eyes, wished she could breathe, and then hurried through it.             It was like she passed through a thick fog, and she opened her eyes to find herself on the other side of the gate.             “But now what?” she muttered.  “Master?”             No response came for a moment.  And then,             There is one last, the hardest.  In the city.  Find him.             The voice went silent again, and Twilight glanced back and forth in the rain, trying to decide which way she should go.             She yelled when her vision shifted and everything took on an ethereal glow.  The rain almost vanished and she could see everything; not one shadow remained.             And in the air was a glowing line leading down into the city from the clouds high above.  It was like a guiding arrow, and Twilight went toward it.             She headed through the city until she found the downed pegasus, and there was a soul next to him, trying to rouse him.             “Come on!  Get up!  Somepony help!  Mare down!”             He flew in small circles, yelling and screaming for somepony to come and help.  Twilight was reminded of her own time as a ghost; nopony had heard her speak.             Lead him to his rest.             Twilight nodded and went over.  The pegasus on the ground was unconscious, but the soul spotted her instantly.             For an instant he looked terrified, but then he hesitated.             “Wait… no… no, it can’t be.  I’m not dead.  Go away!  I don’t want… need you here!”             “I only want to help.” Twilight said.             “For death, you are horrifying.  But I’m not dead, you hear me!?  Go away!”             “I am not Master.  Come on, it will be better elsewhere.”  After all, I found rest.  He’ll only suffer if he goes on. Twilight thought.             He will refuse.  Subdue him before he escapes.             Twilight nodded, and her horn lit again.  The pegasus spotted that, and when she caught him, he struggled against her.  She found herself pulled, and her hooves skidded on the ground before she caught herself and tried to pull him back.             “No!  Stop!”             “Come on!”             “I don’t want to!”             “You have to!  You will only find something painful if you stay!  Come on, and rest!”             He screamed when she finally got him, his soul siphoning into the jar.  Twilight panted, staring at it.             Then she heard something behind her, and turned to look into the fallen pegasus’ eyes.             Twilight had never heard anypony scream like that before.  The mare screamed as if she was staring at her death and fainted at her sight, but she had cracked the nearest windows, and yells were coming from the nearest houses.             A stallion burst from one only to stop and stare at her in horror.             “Celestia save us.” he breathed.             Another one arrived, saw her, and called back, “Monster!  It’s a monster!”             The ones arriving were better prepared to handle the sight of her, and one tossed and hit her with a knife, the blade thudding into her.  She stared at it in horror, and when the next pony charged, she ran.             But she was in a city, and she saw more ponies gathering ahead, ready to fight.  She was trapped.             “Master!  Help!” she called.             The power in her expanded, and she saw the darkness for a moment before suddenly finding herself outside of Canterlot.             She stood there for several moments, and then calmed.  She frowned at the knife in her and pulled it free, noting that she neither felt it nor did she bleed.             “What now?” she asked.             Live.  I have nothing for you now.  To give me the souls, find a conduit.  You will know what they are when you see them.             The voice stopped, and seemed to leave her.  Twilight waited for some time before deciding that master had truly left her.             What now?  She was some monster, a servant of death.  It wasn’t like she could just…             Or could she?  If she hid, and tried to explain, then maybe, just maybe, her friends would understand.  It was something she could focus on at least.             She turned toward Ponyville.  It would take two days on hoof, but she could spend the time thinking about what she was going to say.             Things were… not what she had hoped they were.  But they would get better.  Twilight was optimistic as she set off, trying to find the benefits to being an undead thing.  The most obvious was that she didn’t get tired.  And even a half-life was better than being dead, right?             Twilight nodded, smiling.  Everything would be fixed, and her friends helped.  She could do it.  They were going to be so happy, she just knew it.