It was a spectacularly beautiful day in Ponyville, due in no small part to the local weather pegasi. The birds were singing their whimsical springtime songs while feeding their young. A soft breeze rustled its way through the countryside, carrying with it the pollen of a new generation of flowers and fauna. A small casket containing the mangled corpse of Apple Bloom rested gently in front of Town Hall.
Unfortunately, the birds could not be heard over the constant drone of mourning ponies, sniffling and crying in fits of raw emotion. None were as loud as Big Mac, bawling uncontrollably as he hugged the casket. Applejack stood next to him, her hat solemnly placed against her heart, struggling to keep the crying on the inside and failing. Granny Smith stood next to her, not crying, but yet, holding a gaze that was sadder than any other present.
And so, due to circumstances beyond its control, the beauty of Ponyville was largely overlooked that fine, spring day. Most of the town had gathered to mourn the loss of one so young and innocent. How could they appreciate the beauty of the world when the world had taken a bit of beauty in the form of Apple Bloom away from them? Nopony could.
Except for one.
Twilight Sparkle smiled as the bluebirds flitted overhead, carrying worms to feed to their young. She inhaled the lovely crisp, clean air. Ah. What a beautiful day indeed.
She merrily watched the mama bluebird regurgitate the worms into the waiting mouths of her little chicks. The chicks chirped happily but the worms didn’t seem too pleased with the situation. A pity the worms had to die to sustain the birds.
But, such was the circle of life. Nature’s own unique way of balancing itself. Death gave way to Life, and Life gave way to Death. An endless cycle of birth and death and rebirth. The dead sustained the living long enough for the living to reproduce, and while some creatures could accomplish a lot in their lifetimes, it was a sad fact of life that they had to die eventually. All living things had to die.
Well, except for a couple ponies Twilight knew. They didn’t have to die. Twilight happened to be friends with them, and friends tell each other secrets. Secrets like which gown goes with the best crown, embarrassing pranks they’ve played on others, how to be immortal.
Of course, sometimes friends try to keep secrets from each other, but Twilight knew keeping secrets from each other did not contribute to a healthy friendship. She was the ultimate authority to decide such dogmas, being the Princess of Friendship and all.
It wouldn’t be entirely true to say that Twilight outright asked the other princesses how their immortality works, and it wouldn’t be entirely true to say that they openly told her how it worked, but she found out anyway. The methods she used to extract this secret were… unimportant. The important thing was that new knowledge was gained through her studies, and future generations of ponykind would benefit greatly from it.
It wasn’t perfect. It had its flaws and drawbacks like any other magic spell in existence. That was to be expected.
And sure, Twilight might have originally set out to find the cure for aging, but what she found instead was arguably a hundred times more important.
Twilight frowned as one of the baby bluebirds she was watching was crowded out of the nest by its siblings. With its puny wings underdeveloped, the little chicklet had no defense against gravity. It impacted the ground hard, life giving way to death with the whisper of a broken spine.
Twilight’s frown deepened. Mother Nature could be such a cruel mistress sometimes. It just didn’t seem fair. The baby bird never had a chance.
If only there was somepony that could even the odds…
Twilight smiled again and responded to her own mental prompt by enveloping the baby bird in her magic. With the whisper of a magic spell, death gave way to life. The baby bird shook itself in her grasp and looked up, chirping in confusion.
Twilight nuzzled the bird. Mother Nature might be a cruel mistress, but Twilight Sparkle was a kind and benevolent one.
The Mistress of Life bounced lightly on her hooves. This was going to be so exciting! She couldn’t wait to see the look of surprise on everypony’s faces!
Right. Surprise.
Twilight sobered over and tried to put on her best mourning face. Ponies were supposed to look sad when other ponies they knew died. She had to remember that.
Twilight released the baby bird from her grasp, placing it back in its nest. “Sorry little bird, but I've got a speech to give. Don't waste your life this time,” she said, starring the baby bird straight in the eyes. It chirped in response.
Twilight turned back to the funeral, ignoring the soft thump of something impacting the ground behind her. Nope. She didn't hear that. Couldn't hear a thing over the mourning.
Twilight strode forward. The crowd of sniffling ponies gradually noticed her and began moving out of the way, clearing a direct path to the casket. Some even tried to curb their crying and looked to the princess with something akin to hope, trusting her to say the right things. Things that would make them feel better.
Twilight almost smiled at that. Almost. She knew what they were really sad about, or rather, what they were scared about. Whether they realized it or not, they weren't sad for Apple Bloom and her family so much as they were scared of their own mortality. Reminded of how easily ponies break. Wondering if they would be the next to slip into the void.
Twilight stoically nodded at the ponies who cleared a path for her. They wouldn't be sad or scared for much longer. They’d be surprised! And happy! Probably. Hopefully. Maybe.
The innermost ponies of the crowd parted for her, and Twilight was at the podium. Her friends were grouped right next to it, along with the remaining CMC’s, her brother, and the other princesses. Apple Bloom’s immediate family stayed next to her casket as all of her extended family came up, one by one, to pay their respects. All of them.
Twilight padded over to Applejack and whispered a few words of condolences to her friend. Applejack sniffled lightly and wrapped Twilight in a hug. After an appropriate amount of time had passed, Twilight broke the embrace and stepped up to the podium.
She almost giggled as she gazed out at the solemn crowd, but she managed to catch herself and convert it to an awkward cough at the last second. Time for the big speech.
“Ponies, gentlecolts, friends,” she began, stoically. “We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of our dear friend, Apple Bloom. It’s always hard to say goodbye to a friend, but to lose one so young…” Twilight paused a second to fake-compose herself. “I can’t imagine what you all are feeling right now. I know what I’m feeling and it’s not good.” That technically wasn’t a lie. She felt quite exceptional.
She took a quivering breath. “It’s not fair, Apple Bloom’s passing, but we live in a cruel, unfair world, my friends. The world cares not for your feelings, for your struggles, for loved ones lost.” Several ponies in the audience nodded in agreement. Applejack wiped the tears from her face and stood up a little straighter. Twilight had everypony’s attention now.
Excellent.
“The world may not care about you,” she reiterated, “but I care about you. I care about you so much, that I did some things. Things I'm probably going to regret later. And let me tell you, I learned something. Something forbidden. Something impossible. Something…” She fumbled for the right words. “Something that changes everything.
“I know some of you are sad. I know some of you are scared. Anypony here could’ve had—could still have—the accident Apple Bloom suffered. Death is unavoidable, I’m afraid, but it doesn’t have to be the end. Death is a disease, but with the right magic and medicine, any disease can be remedied.
“You see, my little ponies, you won’t have to worry about death ever again, because…” Twilight trailed off as her horn began to glow a deep lavender. The springtime breeze subtly shifted directions, converging on one certain alicorn’s magical aura.
“I cured death,” she finished, with as much pride in her voice as was equinely possible.
Twilight swung her head for dramatic effect and shot the spell directly at Apple Bloom’s body. The Apple family collectively jumped back in surprise. The rest of the ponies watched with something akin to awe or trepidation or fear. Maybe a mixture of all three.
Silence reigned for a few seconds. Even the birds had ceased their chirping. All eyes were focused on the small casket in front of town hall.
…
The casket creaked. “Ugh,” Apple Bloom said groggily, raising herself up and snapping her spine back into place as she did so. She looked dazedly around at the assembled ponies. Saw the black veils, wet eyes, bouquets of flowers. The crowd stared at her and she stared back.
“Who died?” she asked innocently.
Her words were met with more silence. She confusedly looked over to Twilight, who was positively beaming, grinning from ear to ear. The expectant alicorn opened her mouth, “I brought you—”
She was abruptly cut-off by the simultaneous screaming of a few hundred ponies.
“ZOMBIE!” one pony screamed above the rest. “KILL THE ZOMBIE!” Several others took up the call, forming a mob.
Big Mac was hiding behind Applejack, cowering in fear and muttering wards to himself. Granny Smith was slowly backing away from Apple Bloom in terror. She looked around to make sure nopony was watching before bolting, running away from the scene as fast as her elder legs could carry her. Applejack glared at Twilight and shook her head.
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo glanced at each other, unsure whether they should run away in fear or go greet their undead friend. Cadence grabbed a screaming Shining Armor and crying Flurry before teleporting away. Celestia and Luna remained where they were, the former’s eyebrows being slightly raised.
Twilight sighed. This certainly wasn’t the response she expected.
Thankfully, at least one pony acted normally, given the situation. Pinkie Pie eeped! and dove right into the casket with Apple Bloom. She wrapped the frightened filly up in a big hug. “You’re back! You’re back! When I first heard about the accident I got really sad because you’re so fun to play with and since you were dead I wouldn’t be able to play with you anymore and that’s no fun but when I saw Twilight walking up here I could tell she was trying really hard not to laugh and at first I thought she’d lost her marbles but it turns out she was waiting to surprise us all with her resurrection spell and she used it on you and now we can play again because you’re alive and not dead now! Wow you smell funny…”
Twilight smiled warmly at the exchange. This was exactly why she did the things she did. As Pinkie rambled on, her other friends, led by Applejack, trotted up to her.
“Pretty neat, huh!” Twilight squealed the same time Applejack said, “Why?”
Twilight frowned. “What do you mean, ‘why?’ Your sister died before she could truly experience life. I cured death so that her and everypony else could have a second chance at life. Or third, or fourth if needed. Once I perfect the spell, nopony will have to die unless they really want to.”
Applejack sighed deeply. “Twilight, I know you had good intentions for doing this, but… Wait, what do ya mean by ‘perfect’?”
“Unfortunately, I’m still working out a few of the kinks,” Twilight said, turning back to look at her eulogy/resurrection notes.
“Tell me why I don’t like the sound of that.”
Twilight chuckled nervously. “The thing is, Death does not like to be cheated. If whatever I bring back to life is still alive after forty-two seconds, well, something else of equal value has to die in its place. It’s a particularly annoying side effect.”
Everypony froze, casting uneasy glances among each other. Applejack spoke again, this time with a conflicting note in her voice. “You mean to tell us that within the next forty-two seconds, somepony else in the world is gonna die specifically because you brought my little sis back?”
Twilight frowned as she crossed something out on her notes. “No, nothing so random. I think it’s a proximity thing.” She paused. “At least, that’s how it worked with the goldfish, anyway.”
Everypony unfroze and took a few steps away from Apple Bloom and Pinkie Pie.
“...and then we’ll eat ice cream! Ooh and then we’ll play some games like tag checkers hoofball. Hey do you like—” Pinkie’s question was rudely interrupted by the sound of her lifeless body hitting the bottom of the casket.
“Oh, my!”
“Sweet Celestia…”
“She just… she just dropped…”
“That was honestly kinda awesome.”
“Damn,” Twilight muttered. She crossed out Equestrian Exceptionalism? on her list. “Looks like ponies aren’t special when it comes to the Rules™. I expected as much.”
“You killed Pinkie,” Fluttershy whispered, shivering in spite of the warm, spring sunshine warming her back.
It brought an interesting juxtaposition to Twilight’s mind. Why would they make it such a beautiful day outside if they kept insistently focusing on the negative?
She took a deep breath and put on her best everything is okay smile. “First off, Death killed Pinkie, in exchange for Apple Bloom’s life. The net death is this situation is still the same so we can’t really say I killed anypony. Second off, Apple Bloom’s back everypony! Surprise!” There was a smattering of awkward applause that was largely overshadowed by the screaming of terrified ponies. “Thirdly, you all are going to have the esteemed honor of helping me perfect the resurrection spell!”
Twilight turned her smile to the mob. “I was primarily referring to my close friends, but anypony is welcome to step forward and die for this great cause. I promise it will only tickle a little bit.”
The mob that had gathered had stopped a safe distance away. Many were looking from Apple Bloom to Pinkie to Twilight with various levels of horror and confusion in their expressions. One pony turned to the instigator of the mob, their de facto leader, and asked a simple question. “Nope?”
“Nope,” he replied sagely, before turning and courageously running away. The mob dispersed, with many echoing his sentiment.
Twilight nodded and turned back to her friends. “Now that we’re no longer in danger of being lynched, let’s begin.” Her horn charged up the resurrection spell and she shot it at Pinkie, death giving way to life at a decidedly higher volume than a whisper.
“AAAAHHHHHHHHH That tickles!” Pinkie flopped out of the casket and looked around in confusion, almost mimicking what Apple Bloom had done. “Must’ve had one too many cupcakes for breakfast.”
Twilight snorted in amusement. “One can never have too many cupcakes for breakfast.” She briefly explained the Rules™ to Pinkie. Apple Bloom took advantage of the lack of attention and snuck out of her casket, booking it towards her friends.
Rarity frowned at Twilight’s explanation. “Why forty-two seconds, though? Why not an even minute? Forty-two just seems so… so…”
“Random!” Pinkie supplied, clapping in anticipation.
Twilight shrugged. “I don't know. I didn't make the Rules™, I'm just the mare who’s breaking them. I ran several additional calculations when I discovered it and whatever ‘forty-two’ means or represents, it seems to be a universal constant of some kind.”
“It probably means we shouldn’t mess with the fundamental laws of nature,” Applejack said, sighing. “What do you think, Rainbow?”
An opening was all she waiting for. Rainbow excitedly flew up to Pinkie’s face. “Is death awesome? What’s on the other side? Did you see any famous dead ponies?” She shook Pinkie violently. “Tell me everything!”
“Why don’t you see it for yourself, silly!” Pinkie half-punched Rainbow’s shoulder. “Tag, you’re it!”
Whether Rainbow was ready or not, the time limit expired and she keeled over, dead.
Pinkie held up her hooves and stared at them blankly. “I am become Death,” she said, in a deep voice.
The others’ reactions were a bit more muted this time, with only a “Better her than me” and “One more time, and I think I’ll be completely desensitized” punctuating the constant background screaming.
Pinkie started bouncing off towards a group of frightened townsponies on the edge of the square that had witnessed Rainbow’s death. “D o Y o U w A N t tO PlaY a Ga M e ?” She interpreted their screams of excitement as consent.
Twilight watched her go. Perhaps she should tell Pinkie that she’s not actually carrying death anymore, but… eh, they’ll figure it out eventually.
Turning back to the situation at hoof, she found Fluttershy poking Rainbow’s body with a stick. “Dead things used to scare me, but, um, I guess they aren’t too scary, being up close to them.”
Twilight nodded in agreement. “Stripped of their individuality, dead things are essentially just slabs of meat, and we aren’t afraid of meat, are we?” She didn’t wait for Fluttershy’s response before adding, “You might want to take a few steps back, though. This slab of meat is about to get a little animated.”
Looking at her notes and all the various experimentation options at her disposal, Twilight was filled with foal-like glee. Today was going to be a good day.
“Maybe, if I add just a little…” Twilight shot the resurrection spell at Rainbow Dash. This time the spell had a reddish hue to it.
Rainbow Dash’s body burst into flames. It burnt itself out in ten seconds flat, leaving behind only the charred ashes of the once fastest flyer in Equestria.
“Um,” Applejack said, looking wide-eyed from the ashes to Twilight. “What—”
“Wait for it,” Twilight interrupted, holding up a hoof for silence. She’d never taken her eyes off of Dash’s corpse/bonfire.
The background screaming had faded enough to where they could make out the even higher pitched sound of a foal crying. The wind subtly shifted directions and blew enough of the ash away to reveal a cerulean blue, pegasus foal whining in the middle of Rainbow Dash’s remains.
“Nope,” Twilight said, shaking her head. She crossed out another line on her notes. “Definitely doesn’t need more phoenix magic.”
“Awwwwww!” Fluttershy rushed forward and enveloped the foal into her gentle grasp. She began cleaning the rest of the ash away from baby Rainbow with practiced ease. “Who’s a good little filly? You are!”
Baby Rainbow gradually quit crying. She soon fell into content silence as Fluttershy continued cleaning her.
Twilight stared at Rainbow for a few seconds, going over several options in her head. “I’ll… I’ll fix that later.”
Applejack shook her head and turned to leave. “I need to check on mah family. You never know how much time you have left nowadays,” she finished, shooting a dark look at Twilight as she walked away.
Rarity looked to be a little more concerned about the current scene unfolding in front of her. She scraped her hooves nervously on the ground. “Oh, I can’t bear to watch poor, sweet Fluttershy be the next to go. It’s like a tragedy in slow motion.” She took a step forward. “Fluttershy, darling—”
“Shhhhhh,” Twilight whispered, gently holding a hoof against her. “Let it happen. Everything’s going to work out in the end. Let her have this.”
Rarity bit her upper lip in concern but made no further move to prevent the impending “tragedy.” She resigned herself to watch from a safe distance.
Twilight was a good friend and good friends distract their friends when they are feeling sad and cheer them up by helping them play to their strengths. “You know, I could use your help with something, Rarity.”
After a brief moment of hesitation, Rarity glanced towards Twilight. “Oh?”
In response, Twilight flashed Rarity the shape she had drawn on the back of her notes.
“Twilight, darling… that’s a pentagram.”
“Yes, a crudely drawn pentagram. Do you think you can draw a better one for me? On the ground over there?”
Rarity looked at her as if she’d just made an unrealistic, inappropriate request. “Twilight, you know I’d do almost anything for you, but black magic? Have we learned nothing from the last time—”
“Oh, you wouldn’t have to do any of the actual magic. I just wanted you to design the pentagram to its specifications. But if you can’t do it, you can just say so.” Twilight sighed wistfully. “Circles and stars are difficult to draw…”
The clipboard was wrenched out of her magical grasp. “I may not condone the use of black magic, but I will not tolerate my artistic skills being called into question. I shall create a pentagram the likes the world has never seen!”
Twilight grinned and floated a piece of chalk to the enthusiastic unicorn. “I believe in you, Rarity! Over by those trees over there. Remember, seventy-two-degree arcs.”
With preparations for the next phase diligently underway, Twilight checked back in on her two favorite pegasi. Fluttershy had made a silly face right as Twilight looked at her. Baby Rainbow was giggling uncontrollably at the silliness, her squealing compounding as the face remained still for an awkward period of time. Either Fluttershy was really good at holding facial expressions, or…
No, she was dead. My, how quickly forty-two seconds pass when you’re having fun.
Twilight couldn’t help but frown at Fluttershy’s silly smile. Rigor mortis wasn’t supposed to set in until four hours after death. Her muscles should have relaxed instantly like they did with Pinkie and Rainbow. A natural mutation of the spell? Or a side-effect of the phoenix variation? Hmm.
With that observation recorded, Twilight turned her attention to the next phase. She had to separate Fluttershy from baby Rainbow and she knew the perfect pony for the job. Looking around, she spotted Rainbow’s new foalsitter. “Oh, Scootaloo! I have a present for you…”
With Scootaloo busy cooing sweet nothings to the now non-lethal Rainbow Dash, Twilight was able to drag Fluttershy’s corpse to the summoning circle without disturbing anypony more than they were already disturbed. Rarity was putting the finishing touches on it.
“... and viola!”Rarity stepped back, admiring her hard work. “Pentagram magnifique!”
Twilight admired it with her. “Simply beautiful, Rarity. I knew you could do it!”
With a scientist’s precision, Twilight placed Fluttershy in the exact center of the pentagram, careful so she didn’t touch any of the chalk. Twilight poured some will into the circle to close it off. “You know, Fluttershy, I saved this variation especially for you.”
Fluttershy, naturally, didn’t respond. She could be so shy sometimes.
Twilight double checked the surroundings to make sure there weren’t any animals in range of the pentagram’s power. Trees and plants should do just fine. Besides, Fluttershy would sooner stay dead than have innocent animals hurt during her resurrection. Probably.
Once satisfied, Twilight stepped up to the front of the pentagram, double checking her notes. She threw out a warning to Rarity, “You might want to take a few steps back. Like, a dozen steps back.”
Rarity sighed but did as she was told yet again. “I still don’t like this, but it would be almost criminal to waste such a perfect pentagram.”
“It won’t be wasted,” Twilight assured her. She outstretched her front hooves towards the summoning circle. Using the Royal Canterlot Voice she inherited during her ascension, she began the summoning. “NOCTIS ANIMOS! VITAM AETERNAM VOCATIONEM MEAM PONAM ANTE ILLUM!”
The sky darkened as clouds spontaneously formed over the sun. The wind not so subtly shifted directions to converge on the pentagram’s exterior in a whirlwind, the white chalk outlining turning to black as more and more magic poured into it. The background screaming, the birds,... everything fell away to be replaced by the violent tempest before her.
Fluttershy levitated off of the ground. When she opened her mouth, a voice came out that sounded just a little too masculine, assertive, and overall demonic to come from the real Fluttershy. “You can not defeat me, Twilight Sparkle. Surrender while you still can.”
“Up yours, Thanatos!” With a primal yell, Twilight armed the resurrection spell and shot it at Fluttershy.
The tempest flashed outward before imploding in on itself, killing everything within a forty-two-foot radius, which mostly included some trees and shrubs.
When the fallout cleared, a singular figure could be seen flapping gently amidst the destruction. One would be easily forgiven for mistaking the mare in the pentagram for a pegasus, for indeed a pegasus had gone in, however, black magic rarely leaves its subjects unscathed.
Flutterbat flew forward and landed in front of Twilight. She coughed heavily and stretched out her new leathery wings. “Oh, my. That was unpleasant.”
Twilight wrapped her vampiric friend up in a warm hug, casually brushing some of the ectoplasm and dark energy off her coat as she did so. “Welcome back, Fluttershy! Sorry for the transformation.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I was hoping this would trick Thanatos into thinking you were still sorta dead and breaking the cycle.”
“It’s okay,” Flutterbat said, trying to smooth down her feralistic mane. “Now what?”
Twilight checked her notes again. “Now we wait. If—”She looked around“—Rarity doesn’t die in the next forty-two seconds, then that means the ritual would’ve worked and I can cast the de-vampire spell on you.”
Rarity snorted a very unladylike snort. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. I’m too pretty to die. You’ll have to find another goldfish.” She turned to make a hasty retreat but was saved the embarrassment as Applejack returned, heroically “volunteering” to be her shield.
Applejack stopped a few feet away from Twilight and the unholy ticking vessel of death that was Flutterbat. “You need to stop, Twi. The townsponies are terrified of you, of us. Celestia and Luna are trying to do damage control but calling up demonic entities and twisters ain’t doing anything to calm them down. Just…” She sighed.
Twilight frowned and looked to the others for support. “But… I thought we got this. We got this together.”
“No, you got this, wait. Ugh!” Applejack threw her hooves up. “I give up.” She turned to leave when…
Pinkie materialized on the other side of Twilight. “Is it my turn, yet?!”
Apparently, it was her turn. Again. Pinkie’s second death was much like her first, she just tipped over and hit the ground at an awkward angle.
Huh. The rigor mortis effect looked to be a permanent mutation. It also meant the ritual hadn’t worked and that she had to continue the experiment.
Twilight frowned.
“Oh, the poor thing!” Rarity pouted, pitying Pinkie from the safety of her Applejack shield. “She’s always… wait.” Rarity narrowed her eyes, shifting her gaze from Flutterbat to Twilight, then to Pinkie’s body. “Twilight dear, you were standing closer to Fluttershy when the time limit expired. Now I don’t mean to sound accusatory, but…”
“Why didn’t I drop over dead instead of Pinkie?” Twilight finished. She gave a noncommittal shrug. “I deflected it.”
“You… deflected death.”
“Yes.” Twilight scribbled a few more notes down. “I found a cure for death, didn’t I? It isn’t much of a stretch to believe I found a way to deflect it too, is it?”
Rarity frowned. Applejack snorted and shook her head.
Twilight sighed in exasperation. This was taking longer than expected, and she was running out of variations. And where were Spike and Starlight? They were supposed to have been here by now.
She rezzed Pinkie out of a lack of anything better to do. Maybe Pinkie would build up some kind of immunity to death after being killed more than once. She deserved it.
While Pinkie bounced around playing “death tag” with the other ponies, Flutterbat glided forward on silent wings. “So, um… can I go now, Twilight? I—” She stumbled momentarily, and when she regained her balance, her eyes were a deep scarlet. “I must feed.” Without waiting for permission, she lifted off, flying towards Sweet Apple Acres.
“Oh, sweet cider…” Applejack cursed under her breath. For a brief moment it looked like she was going to chase after the Flutterbat, but instead, she just sighed and settled for another menacing glare in Twilight’s direction.
She could glare all she wanted. Once the spell was perfected, all of these sacrifices would have been worth it.
With renewed vigor, Twilight returned to her notes. Perhaps there were some variations she hadn’t thought of. Pinkie continued bouncing nearby, an ever constant beacon of death and joy.
While deep in thought, Twilight felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned to find a gentlestallion that was fancy and wearing pants, and yet, was not Fancy Pants. Something seemed off about him, but perhaps that was just her innate distrust of the nobility talking.
He cleared his throat politely. Too politely. “Pardon, madam. I would like to inquire the nature of your refrigerator, namely, is it running?”
Before Twilight could reply, the gentlestallion keeled over as the time limit expired.
Twilight squinted at him and leaned in closer, already arming the spell. “What—”
Without warning or the help of the resurrection spell, the dead gentlestallion snapped his head back. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—-”
Twilight and everypony nearby with basic survival instincts jumped back at the sound.
“-HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGOTCHU! HAHAHAHAHA!” With a sonic knee slap, the laughing stallion morphed into Discord. He swiped a fake tear from his eye and flash-boiled it. “That was so funny, I died!”
Twilight sighed and let the resurrection spell dissipate. “I thought you were the God of Chaos, Discord, not the God of Bad Jokes.”
“Oh, I’m a draconius of many talents,” he replied with a deep bow. “Besides, you seem to be quite capable of causing some quality chaos without me. Heh, one might even say you summoned me here.” He dropped the smirk and glared dangerously at Twilight. “You aren’t trying to challenge me, are you?”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too excited. I’m just experimenting with the laws of nature until I can consistently resurrect everypony with no drawbacks or side effects.” She gasped as she realized something. “If you didn’t actually die when the time limit expired, then does that mean—”
“Don’t get too excited,” Discord mimicked in Twilight’s voice. “I deflected it back to Pinkie. She doesn’t seem to mind.”
Sure enough, Twilight followed Discord’s talons to a collapsed pile of pink and fluff. Discord was probably right. It didn’t look like she minded being dead again.
“Say, Discord, buddy ol’ pal, lord of all things random, would you—”
“Use Chaos magic to bring Pinkie back to life, bypass the Rules™, solve all the other problems you created, and be an overall, dashing, stand-up guy?” The smug bastard waggled his dashing, immaculate mustache seductively. “Heh, no.”
“But—”
“Trust me on this one, Twily. You want to create order out of chaos with that silly little spell of yours, correct?” Discord paused to prop Pinkie up in a soft looking bed. He gently tucked her corpse in and conjured up a warm glass of milk to place by her bedside. “I’m a spirit of pure Chaos. Even if I wanted to help you, do you really think throwing more chaos at the problem will make it go away?”
Twilight groaned. “When you put it like that…”
“Yeah. So let me help you by not helping you.” Satisfied that the situation was thoroughly out of control, Discord sprouted a left vampiric wing to match his right vampiric wing. “If you don’t mind, I feel like doing a little feeding myself.” He flew off towards Sweet Apple Acres, presumably to join Flutterbat in her decimation of all things apple.
“Wait!” Twilight yelled after him. “What does ‘forty-two’ mean or represent?”
Discord flashed her a wink and a smile. “Trade secret!” he yelled back, before fading in the distance.
Finding herself alone once again, Twilight did the only thing she could think of to make herself feel better; she resurrected Pinkie again.
Before the pink terror could resume her game of death and fun, Twilight levitated over the glass of milk Discord left for her to drink. “How are you feeling, Pinkie? You’ve died and come back… three times now, I believe. Do you feel any different?”
Pinkie thirstily gulped down the milk in three swallows. “I feel great, Twily! This experiment is really fun!” She wiped her muzzle and flashed a big smile. “Can you send me back, though? I was in the middle of telling Thanny this really funny story about when…”
Pinkie kept rambling, but Twilight’s mind was stuck on one word. Thanny. Pinkie was using a pet name for the God of Death. Perhaps…
Twilight’s eyes widened in realization. Of course! If she couldn’t break the Rules™ on her own, what better way to get past them than by befriending the rule maker himself! Reformation always worked with the other villains they’d faced over the years.
Rubbing her hooves together maniacally, the Princess of Friendship set about organizing the biggest undertaking in friendship history: Befriending Death.
She began preparing for the deflection. “Say, Pinkie, how would you like—”
Twilight was cut off by a loud POP! over the bed. Starlight Glimmer came down, bouncing gently on the bed, barely managing to stay upright. Spike sat astride her, holding a multifaceted, red gem. “Did somepony order a Philosopher’s Stone?” he proclaimed proudly.
As Starlight took a step forward, death hit her, and it hit her hard, though, not quite as hard as the ground did when it smashed her face.
Spike tumbled off dramatically, dropping the Philosopher’s Stone in the process. The Stone may have been powerful, but it was not made to withstand forty-two-inch drops. It shattered almost as badly as Starlight’s face when it hit the ground, releasing the faux-unlimited power it held uselessly into the dirt.
Twilight could only watch as her metaphorical trump card against Death, non-metaphorically bled out energy until it was fully depleted. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Without saying anything, she slowly crossed out another line of her notes.
Spike rubbed his temple awkwardly. “Oh geez, sorry about that Twilight! I don’t know what happened! One second I was sitting on Starlight, and the next… Uh, Starlight? Starlight!”
“She’s fine,” Twilight muttered. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything is okay. We don’t need the Philosopher's Stone anymore. Sure, it… would’ve been nice to try, but we have a new plan now. Right, Pinkie?”
And she was gone. Without knowing the plan. Of course.
Spike was cradling Starlight’s stiff head, rocking back and forth. “This is all my fault, Twilight!” he wept. “We… we stopped to get drinks on the way back, and, and Starlight wanted some hard cider, and…” He wiped some snot off his face. “And I told her, ‘don’t drink and teleport’ just like the PSA’s said, but… but she said it would okay if she only had one, so, so I didn't try to stop her!” Spike broke down into a crying fit. “I killed her, Twilight! I killed Starlight with my compliance!”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “I’d rather not have to explain this twice so could you step away from the dead unicorn, please?” When Spike continued rocking in his own pity, Twilight waved over the only pony she thought could help. “Hey, Rarity!” She tilted her head toward Spike.
Rarity nodded and trotted closer. She lifted Spike up gently with her magic and let him cradle her instead. “Let Twilight work her magic, dear.”
With a tired swish of her head, Twilight shot the vanilla resurrection spell at Starlight. Earlier in the day, she might have said something clever like “Catchphrase!” but now she wasn’t feeling it. It didn’t help that the sky was still overcast from the ritual. Rainbow Dash should really clear that up.
Starlight sat up and coughed. Then she coughed and coughed and threw up. “Uh. That’s the last time I drink and teleport,” she mumbled.
“Starlight!” Spike wiggled his way out of Rarity’s grasp and embraced the buzzed unicorn. “I’m not a murderer!”
Twilight smirked at the short-lived reunion. “All right, listen up you two,” she began, before briefly explaining the Rules™.
Starlight tried standing on unsteady hooves. Rarity leaned against her for support. “So, uh, I died for a few seconds, and you resurrected me? And you needed the Philosopher's Stone to cheat death once and for all?” She looked around groggily. “Where is the Philosopher’s Stone?”
Spike tried his darndest to look embarrassed while Twilight simply sighed. “It’s gone, I’m afraid. Thanks for retrieving it, anyway. You can tell me the details of where you found it later.”
Starlight shook her head to clear it. “So, like, because of the proximity thing, Rarity’s going to die now to pay for my life, which was used to pay for Pinkie’s life, and so on, right?”
Rarity sighed the deep sigh of a defeated mare, accepting her fate. “You are correct, darling. I’m afraid it’s too late for me to run now.”
“Rarity, no!” Spike all but dove towards the white unicorn. He pushed Rarity away from Starlight and then turned to face his destiny. One knee dropped to the ground as his tiny arms extended all the way out. “Take me instead!” he screamed, eyes closed. He probably thought he looked pretty cool.
Rarity collapsed to the ground behind him.
After a few seconds of tense silence, Spike opened his eyes. He turned around. “Oh, come on!”
Twilight winced. “Ouch.”
“Why? Why didn’t I die? I was closer!”
Twilight did her best to avoid eye contact. “It looks like yornegehge…”
“What was that?”
Twilight coughed. “It looks like… your life… isn’t equivalent… to a pony’s life.” She quickly added, “That’s just my theory, of course. It could be something else.”
Spike took a knee to process the information. He looked at Twilight for a few seconds before looking within himself. Finally, he stood up in disgust. “Death is racist,” he spat, folding his arms in defiance.
Twilight patted him gently on the head. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re worth two pony lives, at least. Maybe even four griffin lives.”
“Yeah,” Spike muttered, still unconvinced.
Starlight trotted a little closer and joined Twilight in her sympathy petting. “Sorry, little guy. You’ll get your moment eventually.”
“Speaking of which.” Twilight pulled out her clipboard. “I—we still haven’t tried natural resuscitation.” She glanced at Spike and only Spike. “Would you—”
“If I must,” Spike replied readily, standing up straighter. He strutted over to his fallen patient. “Don’t worry, Rarity. Doctor Spike is here...”
Starlight’s unconditional pity slowly turned to mild disgust. “Eeeeeh, how long… No, I don’t want to know.” She shook her head vigorously before grabbing Twilight’s notes with her magic. “So what do you have left?”
Twilight scoffed the ground innocently. ‘Ah, well, just one more thing, not counting the side project with Pinkie. I really didn’t think it would take this long or come this far, but—”
“Sunset Shimmer,” Starlight said, reading the last uncrossed item on the list. She raised not just one but two eyebrows at Twilight. “Really?”
“I sincerely doubt Thanatos has any jurisdiction in the mirror world. If all else fails—”
Starlight sighed and gave Twilight her notes back. “And if the mirror world has their own God of Death? Do you really want to run the risk of pissing off two deities instead of one?”
Twilight frowned. She hadn’t thought of that.
“Where does it end, Twilight? Do you want me to create a few more alternate timelines while we’re at it as well? Rinse and repeat the process every single time somepony dies? I know you just want to help ponykind, but...” Starlight shook her head. “I say we just find somepony that committed a horrible crime or something, let him or her die, then end it there. That’s the logical thing to do.”
Twilight crossed Sunset Shimmer off her list. Without looking up, she said, “That unnamed pony you’re talking about murdering would’ve been you, not too long ago.”
Starlight didn’t respond.
Twilight continued. “I didn’t create this spell so I could take life away from those that don’t deserve it and give it to those that do. I created it so that everypony gets a second chance. Death ends friendships, and since friendships are more important than death, I decided to end death.” She paused before adding, “I am allowed to decide such dogmas, being the Princess of Friendship and all.”
Starlight scuffed the ground absently, Finally, in a small voice she asked, “What can I do to help?”
Twilight nodded in satisfaction. “If you could bring me Pinkie, that’d be great. She’s really the only card I have left to play. Or rather, to replay.”
As Starlight left to go do her bidding, Twilight turned to see how Spike was faring with the resuscitation. She regretted it almost immediately. “Ugh, Spike! There’s a fine line between CPR and necrophilia…
“—and all you have to do is make friends with him!” Twilight finished explaining. “Then he’ll realize what a butt he’s being and change the Rules™. Or at the very least, be open to negotiations. Can you do it?”
Pinkie saluted her. “Making new friends is what I do best! I won’t let you down!”
Twilight slapped her on the back and armed the spell. “That’s the spirit!”
With a renewed swish of her horn, Twilight brought Rarity back to life.
Spike was sitting on the sidelines with explicit orders not to speak to anypony about what he had done. He’d also gained the esteemed honor of becoming the official timekeeper for death. He wasn’t too pleased with how things had turned out, but he started counting nonetheless. Starlight sat with him to keep him company.
Rarity stood up on shaky legs. “I’m still pretty, aren’t I? You didn’t do anything to make my mane fall out or my skin to shrivel up, did you?”
Twilight offered a stabilizing hoof. “You’re as beautiful as ever, Rarity. Even in death, you had the visage of an angel.”
Rarity smacked her lips together in confusion. “There’s… some kind of weird taste in my mouth that wasn’t there before. Did that happen with the others as well?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Twilight replied easily. “So, uh, Pinkie volunteered to go next. Keep her entertained for me. I have to reanalyze my notes. Make sure I haven’t missed anything.”
Pinkie jumped in on cue. “Did you see Thanatos down there? Big, edgy guy without a face? He may look scary, but I know deep down he has a warm heart, if he has a heart…”
The last of the clouds leftover from the ritual finally cleared of their own free will, letting pure sunshine pour through. It almost gave the illusion that mother nature was on their side.
“Time’s up,” Spike said, almost bored.
“Deflect,” Twilight said absentmindedly, still combing through her notes.
“Deflect!” Discord shouted, appearing only for a second to wave a giant wand shaped like Twilight in Celestia’s direction.
“Deflect,” Celestia said, rolling her eyes.
“DEFLECT!” Pinkie screamed, jumping in the air. She hit the ground at an awkward angle and didn’t get back up.
To anypony else, that might have sounded like a cry for help, but Twilight knew better. Pinkie knew exactly what she had signed up for.
As it so happened, at least one pony interpreted it as a cry for help and took offense.
“Twilight!” Applejack yelled. When she didn't respond, Applejack angrily trotted over to her and bucked the clipboard clean out of her magical grasp. “Stop killing our friends!”
Twilight shrugged. “Technically, Thanatos is the one killing our friends. I'm fighting nobly to save our friends and everypony else from his cruel, dark, infinite—”
“Same bucking difference,” Applejack snorted.
“Fine,” Twilight said, narrowing her eyes. “You want me to stop?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Twilight, I know you think you’re… wait, ‘okay’?”
“Yeah,” Twilight responded, shrugging again. “Okay. I’ll stop it you want me to.”
Applejack opened her mouth and then closed it. After a few moments, she settled for a feeble “thanks?”
Twilight smiled and pulled her country friend in for a hug. “You’re the element of Honesty and I respect your opinion, Applejack. If you think killing and resurrecting our friends solely in the name of scientific progress is unethical, selfish, and morally abhorrent, then I’ll stop doing it.”
Applejack cast Twilight a measuring glance. “Alright.”
They sat in silence, looking at Pinkie’s limp form.
“Actually—”
Twilight’s smile grew even bigger. “Why don’t you round up the townsponies and tell them the funeral’s back on.”
Applejack sighed. “There’s no way out of this, is there?”
“Oh, there’s one way out of this.” Her horn glowed and her notes returned to her grasp. “We change the Rules™.”
Applejack shook her head. “You never should have started this whole mess. Death isn’t something that can or should be cured.”
“Do you not fear death, Applejack? Even if you don’t fear it yourself, would you really prefer it if your sister was rotting in a casket right now?”
“No, but… it’s unnatural, Twilight. Dead things are supposed to stay dead. You can't just… keep cheating death and hope to get away with it.”
“Celestia and Luna do it all the time,” Twilight replied, matter of factly.
“Yeah, but…” Applejack struggled to find the right words. “They’re princesses. They have a whole nation to look after. Their immortality helps prevent radical change and power transitions.”
Twilight didn't respond at first. Instead, she raised her wings and looked her friend straight in the eye. She flapped a few times for emphasis.
“Okay, yes, I get it, you’re a princess too. But this is different. They aren’t repeatedly killing ponies to maintain their immortality.”
“Oh, is that so?” Twilight glanced over at Celestia and Luna, both of whom were quietly conversing by the podium. Celestia pointed a hoof at the empty casket and said something. Luna shook her head.
Twilight turned back to Applejack. “Why do think they came to the funeral today?” she asked quietly.
Applejack snorted. “Well, you see Twilight, some ponies have this emotion thing called ‘empathy’ where—”
“No, I mean, if they’re so busy running the country and everything, why did they make time to come here.” Twilight leaned in closer. “They barely knew your sister. Sure, they could have come here to pay their respects and all, but did they have to cancel a diplomatic meeting to do so? A meeting that was pre-planned for months and very pivotal in the continuing peace Equestria has with its neighbors?”
Applejack squinted and glanced over at the diarchy herself. “What are you suggesting?”
Twilight lowered her voice even more, to the point where it could only be described as a conspiratorial whisper. “All magic spells require an equal exchange of energy to work. Anti-aging spells especially require an enormous amount of energy to enact. You’ve seen what happened to Mistmane.” Her voice dropped so low that Applejack had to strain to hear her next words. “Where do you think Celestia and Luna get their energy?”
Everything stopped for a few seconds. If the expression on Applejack’s face was anything to go by, it was safe to say that she was thoroughly WOKE.
Twilight started backing away slowly. “Just think about what I said.”
She was about to check on Pinkie when a voice spoke from behind her. “Sharing royal secrets with the peasantry, are we?”
Twilight closed her eyes and steeled herself. This confrontation was inevitable, she supposed. Applejack backpedaled in horror and ran away.
Twilight wheeled around with a fake smile on her face. “Haha, you know me. Only the deepest and darkest secrets will do.”
Celestia looked exhausted and the tired smile she gave had no warmth in it. Luna trotted up behind her, looking equally exhausted. “We knew Ponyville was backwoods, but really? It is as if they have never seen necromancy before.”
“Except this isn’t your average, everyday necromancy,” Celestia said, narrowing her gaze on Twilight. “This is advanced necromancy.”
Twilight jumped back whilst arming her horn with something a little more powerful than the resurrection spell. “I know all your dirty, little secrets, Celestia! You didn’t come here out of pity for Apple Bloom! You came here to steal her soul so that it would feed your own immortality!” She gritted her teeth. “Well, I say go find a new energy source, because now everypony gets to cheat death, not just you two!”
Celestia and Luna stared at Twilight for a few seconds before exchanging a glance between themselves. Finally, after a few moments of intense silence, both cracked a smile.
“Hehehe. Haha. HAHAHAHA!” Luna boomed her laughter while Celestia giggled more politely to herself. “You think… you think we steal pony souls. Ha!”
“Wherever could she have gotten such a preposterous idea!” Luna exclaimed, clearly avoiding eye contact with either of the other two princesses.
Taken aback by their mockery, Twilight disarmed her horn. Carefully, she asked, “If you don’t maintain your immortality from pony souls than…”
Celestia curbed her giggling a little and stepped closer to Twilight. “We’re almost deities, Twilight. Where do deities get their power from?”
Twilight raised her eyebrows but answered the question anyway. “Deities generally gain their power from the collective belief sapient creatures pour into certain ideas or objects… oh, I messed up, didn’t I?”
Celestia smiled gently. “Honestly, Twilight, you could’ve just asked us in the first place. I thought our cutie marks made it obvious.”
They all sobered down to their previous levels. The periodic screaming on the edge of the square really set the mood.
“Honestly, why are they still screaming?” Celestia mumbled. “We told them to return to their homes. Why are they still out here?”
“Perhaps, sister, they crave the stimulation. After all, they devoted an entire holiday to fearing me,” Luna said. “Which I must say, is not a very good coping mechanism for trauma.”
Celestia glared at her.
Luna sighed deeply. She turned away from them and started trotting slowly in the general direction of Canterlot. “I have a feeling I'm going to be very busy tonight. Very, very, busy.” Fresh screams punctuated her factual statement as more ponies gazed upon the edifice of horror that was Pinkie Pie. “It was so much easier being evil.”
“Sorry!” Twilight yelled after her.
Luna’s only response was to wave dismissively without looking back. She flew off towards the castle post-haste.
Celestia shook her head. “No amount of apologies will undo the damage you’ve done today, Twilight. Did you really think field testing that spell in full view of everypony was going to make the townsponies smile and sing ballads about you?”
Twilight looked away guiltily. “A little gratitude would have been nice. Besides, you can save the speech. I’ve already gotten it twice now.”
Celestia paused for a moment, reconsidering what she was going to say. “Your friends care about you, Twilight. Perhaps they realized that no sane pony would actually want to be immortal. Living forever isn’t all rainbows and sunshine—”
“Yeah, yeah. Watching everypony you’ve ever loved die, blah, blah, blah, immortality is a curse, blah, blah, endless boredom, etcetera, etcetera, ad infinitum.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Did I miss anything?”
Celestia narrowed her eyes. “Immor-”
“Now what I'm offering isn't immortality,” Twilight emphasized. She waved a hoof over at Pinkie’s smiling, standing, unblinking corpse. “Does that look like immortality to you?”
“Immortality in my nightmares, perhaps.”
Twilight did a double take. “Wow. That is… that is actually pretty disturbing.”
“And she opens her eyes,” Celestia mumbled. “I’m sorry about your pink friend, but I really can’t allow this ‘experiment’ to continue—”
“Wasn’t Pinkie lying on the ground a minute ago?”
As both princesses watched, Pinkie’s corpse took a big, stiff step towards them.
Ignoring the animalistic part of her brain that told her to run, Twilight stayed right where she was. “Did you..?” she half-whispered out of the side of her mouth.
“Of course not,” Celestia replied, intently watching as the thing with Pinkie’s face took another step.
“Maybe… maybe it worked?” Twilight said, unconvinced by her own words.
“I’m pretty sure ponies aren’t supposed to move like that.”
After about another forty-two seconds, the walking horror reached the princesses and stopped. “Please…” it whispered, in a voice similar to the one that had spoken through Fluttershy during the ritual. “Please, I… I can’t take it. She won’t shut up. It’s… it’s too much. Her soul isn’t like the others, I can’t… the laughter, the singing, the giggling. Please, you have to take her back. End my suffering. Please…”
“One second.” Celestia turned Twilight around for an impromptu group huddle. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
Twilight grinned back at her. “I think Pinkie broke the God of Death. The intention was to befriend him, not annoy him to the point of occupational suicide, but hay, whatever works. I think he’s asking for a concession.”
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s what Pinkie does best.”
“What do we do?”
“Let me handle this.”
Twilight turned back to the possessed corpse and cleared her throat. “Alright, Thanatos. I’ll take Pinkie back. On one condition.” Out of all the research and experimentation, death and resurrection, it had come down to this. She inhaled deeply.
“Nullify the equivalent exchange condition on the spell I’ve been using. Make it so—”
“Yes! Fine! I don’t care, just take her back!I’ll collect my souls elsewhere. You win, okay. Is that what you wanted me to say? I’m just trying to do my job, okay, and you keep making it harder on me and throwing happy ponies at me…”
Twilight actually started feeling a little sorry for him. Celestia frowned slightly, empathizing with him as well. Thanatos continued his rant.
“...I’m so tired. So, very, very tired. Sometimes… sometimes I get jealous of the ponies whose lives I’ve claimed. They get to live a full life and die. What value does my existence have if I cannot die? Please, Twilight… if anyone can end my suffering… you can. Kill me… please…”
Pity turned to shock and shock into horror. Twilight stood there for a few moments, processing what he had said. Celestia wiped a tear away from her eye.
Finally, Twilight shook her head and stepped a bit closer. “I’ll, uh, I’ll get back to you on that one, buddy.” She armed the resurrection spell, hopefully for the last time, and jabbed Pinkie with it at point-blank range.
Her body convulsed violently, and a faint “thank you” could be heard escaping from her lips.
Pinkie groaned as she sat up. “Aw, I was just about to tell Thanny about the time I duplicated myself with the mirror pool you had to kill all the copies. I’m sure he would have gotten a kick out of that one.”
Twilight embraced her in a big hug. “Mission accomplished, Pinkie! If there’s one thing I’ve learned through this whole ordeal, it’s that the means by which you achieve something is irrelevant so long as you get the desired end result.”
Celestia sputtered. “That’s the only thing you’ve learned?”
Twilight paused and tried again. “The fundamental laws of nature can be rewritten if you annoy the lawmaker enough to the point where they just let you do whatever you want? And that the God of Death has clinical depression and should seek professional help?”
“Getting closer.”
“Something, something… friendship?”
Celestia sighed. “Eh, good enough.” She turned and started walking away. “I’m tired, Twilight. So very tired. Think I’ll lower the sun a little early today. Hit the sheets. If a crisis comes up… you can handle it.” She began to gather magic for a long-range teleportation jump.
“Wait a second,” Twilight prompted, holding a hoof up. She waited a few seconds then said, “Okay, now you can go.”
Celestia grumbled some horse noises to herself and teleported away.
Twilight remained where she was, eyes closed, basking in the glow of victory. Forty-two seconds had passed and no pony had died. “You know, Pinkie. I think it’s time for a party.”
“Best. Day. EVER!”
While Pinkie left to prepare the party of the century, Starlight approached, smiling lightly. “Looks like you did it, Twilight. Now everypony gets a second chance at life.”
“Everypony,” Twilight echoed, nodding. “Unless they don’t want a second chance. I’m not ethically obligated to keep somepony alive against their will.”
“Sounds like there’s a new rule maker in town.”
“Damn straight.”
They watched the accelerated sunset together. True to her word, Celestia lowered it a full four hours early.
“So, do you plan on teaching the resurrection spell to other unicorns, or…” Starlight trailed off.
Twilight grinned and looked off into the distance, remembering what Pinkie had said.
“Have I ever told you the legend of the mirror pool?”