//------------------------------//
// As Long As Your Name is Spoken 
// Story: It's Called 'Living' 
// by appendingfic 
//------------------------------//

PEOPLE’S WHOLE LIVES DO PASS IN FRONT OF THEIR EYES BEFORE THEY DIE. THE PROCESS IS CALLED ‘LIVING’.
-Terry Pratchett, “The Last Continent”

~~~

With practice born of years of flying through the worst storms that had visited Equestria, Rainbow Dash twisted her wings, relegating the sharp pain from that lightning strike to a dull, fading ache, recovering neatly from the uncontrolled spin she'd been thrown into. Hovering, she gave the scene an approving smirk; already the storm, robbed of much of its strength, was dying away.

"What'd I tell you, Scoot? No storm's ever gotten the best of Rainbow Dash!"

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that." The voice that replied to Rainbow's boast was unfamiliar. It had something of Fluttershy's understated warmth, but also the steel core of Applejack in her most uncompromising.

Rainbow spun in mid-air, grateful to find that she'd reached her second wind, and that the aftereffects of the lightning strike seemed all but gone for the moment. Twilight had a big word for it, but all Rainbow knew that she was ready to deal with this interloper, and the consequences could wait until afterward.

The newcomer was pale, her coat as white as milk and mane the same. She hovered far too close for comfort, watching Rainbow with sharp blue eyes that reminded her uncomfortably of Pinkie Pie.

"What do you mean by that?" Rainbow demanded, fluttering backward to get some space between her and this other pony.

The stranger shrugged with too-thin shoulders and gave Rainbow a wan smile. "I mean you hardly escaped unscathed, Rainbow Dash. Mind, one can hardly say the storm came out the better for it, either."

"Now I know you're cracked!" Rainbow snapped. "I've never felt better! Hay, I haven't felt this energetic in years!"

"I can imagine," the pale pony said softly. "Without the aches and stresses of a living body, you must feel very well."

Rainbow glared as best she could at the pony. She wasn't certain exactly what the stranger wanted, but she was talking weirder than Zecora, and something was nagging at her, something Spitfire would probably have been screaming to her about. It had always been the elder Wonderbolt's pet peeve that Rainbow Dash had a tendency to miss what was right under her snout.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but you're going to shut up and tell me where my wingpony is before I buck your teeth in!"

The stranger gave Rainbow the same wan smile before nodding. "Follow me."

The newcomer remained silent as the two dropped down through the remains of the dissipating storm. Rainbow let her be; she knew she couldn't work up anything polite to say, although, oddly, she couldn't feel the frustration she would normally feel. The emotions were there, just strangely distant and muted.

As they neared a familiar orange shape at ground level, Rainbow began wondering if the lightning bolt that had hit her had taken more out of her than she'd thought.

Scootaloo was crouched on the floor of the Everfree Forest. For a moment, Rainbow thought the younger pegasus was hurt. "Scoot!"

The other pegasus didn't reply. However, as she drew closer, Rainbow heard a quiet sniffle from Scootaloo, and she saw that her wingpony was half-leaning on a still, cyan form.

She might not have spent as much time in front of a mirror as Rarity, but Rainbow could recognize what she looked like. Rainbow's realization that Scootaloo was crying over, well, Rainbow, came with a strange sort of relief, as if things were the way they were supposed to be.

"You're the Pale Horse," Rainbow Dash said flatly. "I'm dead."

"Got it in one," the Pale Horse replied placidly. "That lightning bolt was a bit much for your heart. But like I said, you did do a number on that storm, as well."

"Well, yeah. Of course I did." The words came automatically, but they felt empty. She looked at Scootaloo, who was saying something. It was probably important, but the words came as if through a cloud, muffled and distant. Even Rainbow's mane seemed dim and dull. She shook herself and glanced back t the Pale Horse. "Is that it, then? One lightning bolt, and Rainbow Dash is gone?"

The Pale Horse fixed Rainbow with a glare straight out of Rarity's book, as if she couldn't believe how stupid Rainbow was. She took a hurried step back, remembering old stories about what happened to ponies who were bad.

"It is a remarkable thing that you survived as long as you did, Rainbow Dash," the Pale Horse declared, voice taking on an edge that made Rainbow tense, even though she no longer had nerves, or muscles, to do it with. "You have survived many storms. Another Rainbow Dash might have died months, or years, ago. And you are survived by those who love you. But if you insist I assuage your wounded pride, not one pony in a million could have brought an end to this storm. In death, as in life, you have embraced the edge of the impossible."

As the Pale Horse spoke, Rainbow felt warmth, as if somepony had wrapped her in their wings. She gave no thought to the fact that no pegasus pony was large enough to engulf her in their wings. Instead, Rainbow relaxed, and felt even the faint sensations the world made on her spirit fade.

For once in her life, Rainbow Dash let something happen without fighting.