//------------------------------// // Chapter 1.4: Death // Story: Secrets of the Mane Six // by Starscribe //------------------------------// She could see the well even from far off, surrounded by a massive ring of dark stone monoliths. Each block formed an ancient monument, taller and larger than some of Ponyville’s buildings. Each one looked like it had seen the weight of countless passing years. It reminded her a little of a similar monument she had read about, taken from Equestria’s distant history. Her family had taken her to visit Ponehenge when she was just a filly, and she had marveled at the scale. Yet now, she thought she knew what that structure had been based on. She wouldn’t be so impressed if she ever returned. Another thing surprised her—the feel of grass under her hooves, the smell of flowers and the touch of moss growing on the edge of monuments. She even imagined a few distant echoes of birdsong, and the not-too-distant gurgling of a stream. You are in more danger here than you have ever been in before, the boatman had said. But after being attacked by the shades of lost ponies near the surface, this seemed quite friendly. “I’m not sure why ponies made this out like it was such a big deal,” Twilight whispered to Applejack, keeping her voice low just in case. “I thought we were coming to see some terrible monster, but it looks like whoever lives here is quite friendly.” They passed one of the monuments, several times thicker than Twilight’s body was long. It looked like something had been written there, but whatever it had said was eroded almost to nothing. “Hush up, Twi,” Applejack hissed. “She’ll hear you.” “Why wouldn’t Death be friendly?” asked a voice. Twilight had expected billowing power, perhaps something like the Royal Canterlot Voice she had heard from Luna more than once. Instead, she heard only a whisper, and couldn’t even point to its direction. She couldn’t guess at an age, or even a sex. Ponies who spoke of Death at all typically referred to her as female, just as the rulers of their world they knew in life were female. “Your work is done, Applejack. The visitor has reached me in safety. Either I will return her to the surface, or I won’t. You cannot shape that decision now.” “As you say.” Applejack lowered her head towards the center of the circle, as ponies sometimes bowed to the princesses. Twilight followed her gaze, but she could see nothing there but a shape of low rocks, partially overgrown by moss and grass. No pony, for sure. “Well, good luck and all, Twilight. I hope fer yer sake you’ve thought long and hard about what you’ll do in there. This ain’t the kinda place where we can come back later and change our minds.” She rose, gave Twilight a brief hug, and was already turning away. “Wait!” Twilight called, conscious all the time that whoever had spoken was probably still here, still listening. “You’re leaving me down here? I don’t know the way back!” It wasn’t as though Twilight had been ignoring what she saw on their way. But she didn’t think the boatman ever took ponies the other way. “Do not worry over how you will return to the surface when you do not know that you ever will,” whispered the voice, shifting and jumping strangely with each word. It was as though the identity of the speaker was never the same from moment to moment. “Come forward, Twilight Sparkle. I am eager to hear your plea.” Twilight glanced behind her again, to wave goodbye to her friend one last time. But Applejack was no longer there. She wasn’t walking away down the path, didn’t seem to be crouching in the shadow of the massive stone blocks. Twilight was alone. It’s either this or die, she thought. Much sooner than I was ready for. She had not been an Alicorn for very long, not even long enough to master flight. Applejack’s advice that she accept what little life was left to her and welcome death when she came had fallen on deaf ears. “Where are you?” Twilight asked, her voice becoming slow and respectful. As she had spoken to Celestia for most of her life. She walked slowly too, across the mossy path and towards the object at the center of the circle of stones. This must be it, the so-called “Well of Souls” she had come to find. Considering the monument all around it, she pictured something similarly grand. Perhaps a shaft so wide that a fully-grown dragon could dive inside without splashing someone standing at the surface. No doubt there would be a massive throne of skulls or something else horrifying beside it, where Death would sit and judge the mortals who came to her. “Where?” repeated the speaker. Twilight held still this time, listening very closely. Trying to discern a direction. It sounded very close—as though the pony were right behind her. She snapped her head back, but there was nopony there. Now it sounded like the speaker was in front of her. “Where is Gravity? Where is Fear?” She saw no throne, no skulls, and nothing like the well she had imagined. This one was about three feet across, made from black stones of varying shade. The well itself was so worn down that it had almost been completely swallowed by the life within the circle. Bright red flowers grew nearby, with a few of the birds she had heard perched on their stems. Twilight gulped. “Gravity is… everywhere. It manifests wherever there are objects with mass.” The smell drifted slowly towards her. Like an unburied corpse, left out in the sun for days. She choked back a gag, backing away from the flowers. She couldn’t see down the well from this far away, though, and something in her needed to. Just what did a soul look like, anyway? “Indeed,” the voice answered. This time it seemed as though it were coming from somewhere deep in the well, echoing up a long shaft and stretching as it came. “As is the case with Death. Though it is the living that causes Death to manifest. Only by limiting your view to a single instant does it seem to you I am not with you. Yet I am already there, waiting for you. That day has already come, and it will, and it is here now.” Twilight shivered. There was much Death implied, and much she wanted to ask. But those things were not why she had come tonight. They could wait for another adventure. “I’m here…” She whimpered, coughed, cleared her throat. Then she stepped forward, standing a little straighter. “I’m here to petition you, Death.” The voice sounded almost amused. “Always with formality, constructed politeness from you ponies. You think I am your enemy, yet you act as though I am a king. I wonder, have you come to beg for what the Nightwatcher demanded? Did she send you hoping my response would be different to you than it was to her?” Death sounded suddenly as though it were behind her again. “I will not give the end of pain she wanted for Equestria. If that is your desire, take it. Live as you desire until the last light has gone from the last star. I will wait for you, no matter how long it takes.” “No.” Twilight wasn’t sure it was wise to contradict Death—but then, she wasn’t sure exactly how she was supposed to act around it. At least when she had fought Discord there had been something to look at. But this wasn’t some spirit of death, as she supposed her friend Applejack had become. This was Death itself. She was no person to watch, and probably not even a mind as she understood it. “I’m not here for that. If ‘Nightwatcher’ is Luna, then she didn’t even suggest I ask about that.” How much of what I’m hearing is my own imagination? How much of any of this is actually happening? It was easier to think that maybe this whole night was a fever-dream. She would wake up in bed with Spike asleep on the ground at her hooves and everything would go back to the way it was. “Then come forward,” the voice urged. “Many have come before me. Ask, and we will see.” See what, the voice didn’t tell. Twilight obeyed anyway, as much out of curiosity as fear for what Death would do if she refused. She tried hard not to smell the flowers, and made each step securely. The well was shorter than she was, and it would’ve been easy to trip and fall inside if she wasn’t careful. She stepped close enough, looked down, and at first she couldn’t see anything at all. It was blinding, whatever was down there, blasting up into her face. But no… she blinked, and realized what she saw was only her own reflection in the water far below. “This is it?” The words slipped out before she had fully realized what she was saying. “I mean, not to disregard your domain, or your powerful impact on the lives of…” She heard laughter from behind her. “Things come apart, Twilight Sparkle. The center cannot hold. There will be less magic in the universe tomorrow than there was today. In ancient days, this well was something more grand. Souls of all kinds came with their demands, and there was power enough to fulfill them all. “Power spent returns again, but always some is lost. Yet the souls who visit are shadows of what once was, barely-real echoes from a greater age. Perhaps enough remains for you.” “I don’t want to live for just a year,” Twilight Sparkle said. “I’m not ready. I think I have more to offer Equestria. And I want to live long enough to do that.” “Few are ready,” said Death, whispering into her ear. “I know the fantasy you believed, it is the same one that so many mortals share. You think I am out of reach—you imagined all the years you had ahead of you, that after all that life you would be ready. But deep down, I think you knew that isn’t true. When one of my servants came for you, you would still wish for one more day. One new spell you might invent, one more mystery you might solve. There will always be one more.” Twilight wanted to argue—yet as she opened her mouth to protest, to insist that she was different, that only because her death had come so soon was she upset—she realized that wasn’t true. Twilight saw the future before her as a never-ending series of opportunities. Was there any milestone she might cross, and decide right there it was enough? If there was, surely becoming an Alicorn was it. Almost nopony ever does that. And as she thought that, she realized she wasn’t alone after all. There was another pony with her, on the other side of the well. A pony almost her size, who proved only to be shadow cast by the flowers when she looked too closely. Yet if she didn’t search for the pony, she was impossible to miss. How long had she been there? The voice didn’t seem to move around anymore as it spoke. Nor was it shifting—it was distinctly female, and close enough to her own that she almost sounded like family. “Be honest with yourself, Twilight Sparkle. Did you come here so you could live forever?” “No,” she said, and she meant it. “But I want to live more than a year. It seems like Equestria is in constant danger. Maybe it’s selfish of me to think that I’m the pony who will make the difference against the next big threat… but my friends and I brought Luna back to her sister. We saved Equestria from Discord. Without me, the Elements of Harmony are useless. Sure, there might be other friends who can use them… but there might not.” There was a long silence. The shadowy figure on the other side of the well approached the ruin, brushing aside some of the moss with a hoof. She took hold of the old crank on the side of the well, and began to move. It creaked, and a little bucket began to descend past her, on a bit of frayed rope. “I cannot simply extend life, Alicorn. Your kind will have to discover those mysteries on your own. What I can do, however, is bind. A pair of young sisters once came to me, when they realized the terrible consequences of their magic. They begged for more time, so that they might use the powers they had gained to protect the ones they loved. Yet when they came, it was up to them to choose what in all creation their souls would twist and bind. They chose the most enduring objects they knew, not realizing how long a sentence they signed themselves.” There was a splash from far below. Twilight’s eyes jumped to the sound, and again she could see light in the ripples the bucket made. Light beyond the brightest sunlight, illuminating the vast cavern with its unthinkably distant ceiling. The shadow of Death was suddenly in front her, and everything before Twilight’s eyes began to blur. She could see through it, but only while she looked directly at something. Otherwise, she saw only blackness where its body ought to be. “What will I bind to you, Twilight Sparkle? What is it you must see until the end?” Twilight looked away, unable to stare into the partially-solid thing for very long. By the time she looked back, it was gone, standing again at the other side of the well. It began to crank again, reeling in the bucket. “Does it have to be a thing?” “No.” Again the voice sounded pleased. “It doesn’t have to exist as stars and moons. So long as it is real to you, it is real enough. Choose with care, however. If strange eons pass, and you find yourself waiting beside me for the death of the last star, that is how long you must wait. What you bind will be bound.” Twilight was staggered by the idea of living as long as a star. From what she knew of astronomy, that meant the thousand years Celestia had waited without her sister would be less than an eyeblink in the time she would endure. Would ponies even exist for the majority of that time? Twilight didn’t like the idea of her mentor stuck alone, waiting until the death of the sun. But at the same time, she wouldn’t pick the same fate for herself if there was another option. What can’t I live without? Princess Celestia had already taught her that. “Friendship. That’s what I want. Equestria might grow, might be replaced one day… but so long as there are still friends out there, there’s still something worth protecting. There’s still more to do. When all the friends are gone, well… guess I’ll be done.” The silence didn’t last nearly as long this time. Twilight watched the figure, and found it seemed to be growing more distinct the longer she looked at it. Not a vague blob of shadows at all, but a pony with a light gray coat, and a long mane that drifted behind it in an unseen breeze. It wasn’t an Alicorn though, only an earth pony. Maybe that meant something. Death removed the bucket from the well, sloshing full of… something. Every time it moved there were little flashes of light, and Twilight’s magic senses could register something there. A little strange, since she couldn’t sense the pony holding it. How could the pony move it without a horn of her own? “Are you certain of that, Twilight? There will be no later chance to change your mind. As time stretches on, as you are forced to live while others do not, you will think back to this moment. Perhaps you will wish you made another choice.” “Perhaps,” Twilight repeated. “But it’s the best choice, I think. So long as there are friends to make, then there are things I could do.” “Then it will be,” Death said, stopping just in front of her with the bucket. It looked old, and larger than she’d expected. Something that might be used around a farm, maybe. “And when Friendship itself has died, I will be waiting for you. I hope for your sake you are ready for me then, and not filled with regrets you did not welcome me sooner. Or longing to be a part of whatever comes at the end of Friendship.” Twilight opened her mouth to reply—a mistake. She felt a sudden jerk as something slammed her head down into the bucket, and fire surged down her throat. She gasped by reflex, and that only made things a dozen times worse. There was a splash, and Twilight wasn’t standing by a well anymore. She hadn’t just had her head shoved into the bucket—she was completely submerged in fire. It burned all over—but her eyes were the worst. This was far worse than the public pool she’d learned to swim in as a child, with its chemicals to keep clean. This was like the worst laboratory accidents she’d heard about, alchemists spilling their reagents all over themselves. She screamed, but that only made things worse. She twisted and contorted and barely even realized she was drowning. If she could see, she expected she’d have seen her flesh itself dissolving. She flailed and flapped her wings uselessly, trying to lift herself to the surface of… whatever she’d fallen into. The well? This is how I die, she thought. It’s a trick. Death just made me trust it so it could get close, and now I’m dying. But then again, Twilight wasn’t helpless. She wasn’t the foal who had barely been able to levitate a book. If anything, her magic had received a powerful boost when she became an Alicorn. She could teleport from Canterlot to Ponyville if she wanted! But before she could get together the concentration to form the spell, her head broke the surface of the liquid. She hacked the contents of her lungs out into the water, gagging and spluttering and whimpering in pain. The air itself appeared transformative—no sooner did she feel it against her face than the pain all over her body began to ebb away. One wing brushed against something slick and stony, and she drifted over towards it, trying to get purchase. She didn’t feel as though whole sections of her flesh were being eaten away anymore, either. At first, she feared as though the blindness was genuine—but no, she was only looking straight up, where brilliant sunlight was shining down on her from above. That meant it was noon? She could hear voices—many of them, actually. Ponies talking in the carefree, casual way they did at market. She could even recognize some of the voices. I’m in Ponyville’s market well, Twilight realized. “Help! Help!” She looked up, casting her voice as high as she could. “I’m stuck!” There was an iron grate at the top of the well, with an opening only wide enough for the bucket. But that didn’t stop her voice, and soon enough she saw a gray-furred pegasus mare poke her head in, looking down. “Hello? I don’t think anypony is supposed to be down there.” Twilight flapped one wing in annoyance. “No I’m not, Derpy. Could you bring some help? Applejack’s stand should be nearby—tell her I fell into the well! She’ll know what to do!” Twilight tried another teleport, but the magic didn’t seem to want to come. Her horn flickered and spluttered, and only some of the water beside her vanished. From the splash and squeals of surprise from above, she could guess where it had gone. Her erstwhile rescuer might not be the brightest mare in Ponyville, but a few minutes later and she had returned with Applejack. Her friend didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see her there, though the crowd gathering around the grate certainly looked shocked. It was a good thing Twilight knew how to swim. Despite her weakness, she could manage an occasional flap of her feathers to keep her above the surface of the water. Soon enough Twilight was slumped against the side of the well, wrapped in a towel the gray pegasus had retrieved while Applejack worked, and repeating the same lie to anypony who asked how she had got there. “Teleporting from Canterlot is harder than I thought,” she said over and over. “I guess I still need some practice.” It hurt a little to lie to so many of them—including several of her friends. Pinkie Pie brought over a cupcake shaped like the well, and Twilight couldn’t even guess how she could’ve baked it so quickly. In the end, ponies returned to their business, leaving the novelty of the town’s new Alicorn behind. Except Applejack, who had stayed under the pretense of “bending the grate back.” Once the ponies dispersed, she bent the iron with barely any effort, securing it over the shaft. Well, one pony had stayed behind. Twilight rung the large towel out, levitating it back towards the mare who had given it to her. “Thanks for letting me borrow that, Derpy.” “No problem,” the mare said, taking the damp towel on her shoulder. “I always keep a few of these handy, just in case. You’ve got to be more careful, Princess.” Twilight opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get the words out, the pegasus was already fluttering away through the air. “I guess I know what you decided,” Applejack said, inclining her head slightly. “How?” Twilight asked, keeping her voice down. “It hasn’t been a year yet.” “Ponies who make it that far either get what they came for, or they don’t come back,” Applejack whispered. Then she turned, back towards where her sister was manning the stall. When she spoke again, it was a little louder—for the ponies still moving about the marketplace to hear. “Anyways Twi, Derpy’s right. You should be more careful.” She walked away, leaving a damp Twilight alone. She made her way back to the library a few minutes later, still trailing water as she went. Spike had been sitting in one of the library benches, surrounded by a small ocean of comic books and empty ice-cream tubs. He sat up with a jerk, sending both to the ground around him. “I’m up!” he announced to no one, before turning to see Twilight. “Oh, h-heh.” He got up, standing between her and the mess. “I didn’t think you’d be back until late. Celestia sent a letter to say she’d sent you on a mission and it might take you a little while.” “Well, I’m back.” Twilight didn’t say a word about his mess, didn’t even look at it. “I’m gonna take a nap. Then maybe visit Rarity a little later. Once I feel alive again.” “Awesome!” Spike followed her as far as the base of the stairs. “Can I come?” “Sure, Spike. Just make sure the library doesn’t burn down until I wake up.” “Sure thing!” He saluted up the stairs. “I will protect it with my life!” “And… make sure you don’t spill ice cream on our comic section.” “Right.” Spike turned away, darting over to the pile of disordered comic books. Twilight didn’t watch him after that. Charon’s words still haunted her, more than anything else that she had seen. Apparently, he knew one of her friends was in danger, and wanted her to help. She would, once she got a little sleep.