I don't know how long I laid there behind the desk, grieving over my own death and lamenting all of the things I'd never done. Not like it really mattered, anyways... time here didn't pass the same way as it did in life. After what seemed to me like hours, I had cried myself out of tears, my emotions spent. As I collected myself, I began to feel a little bit foolish for letting my emotions control me like that. I mean, granted, death is kind of a big thing to deal with, but I didn't become Jade the Spade by being emotional. Taking a deep breath, I composed myself, determined to be ready for the next guest. Keeping with its habit of being eerily punctual, the elevator dinged.
Blinking the last of the moisture out of my eyes, I put on my best smile as the door opened. The doors slid open with a quiet hiss, and a mare about my age stepped out. Immediately, this one seemed to be... different somehow. She strode forward confidently, almost as if she owned the place. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she wandered around the lobby, investigating the fountains and their intricate carvings. My presence was either missed or ignored, as the mare made no move to greet me. Honestly, I found her behavior to be baffling, and I opened the Codex to learn something about this odd guest of mine.
Her name was Sandy, and she was a sandwich maker at a little diner in town. She recently turned twenty six, and died in her sleep due to some sort of freak accident that caused her building to collapse. The Codex didn't provide any further information. Well, I supposed that this could explain her behavior. She didn't know she'd died, and as far as she was concerned, this was just a dream. I sighed in frustration. As much as I was glad that Sage had moved on to be reunited with his daughter, I still sort of wished that he was here to help me with this one. Putting the Codex down on the desk, I started walking towards her. Hearing my approach, she turned and favored me with a bemused grin.
"Hey there! Swanky place, huh?"
I blinked a bit in surprise, caught off guard by her chipper demeanor. There was a sickening feeling growing in my stomach as I prepared to change that.
"Er... yes, I suppose it is. Do you know where you are?"
"Well, I'm obviously in Canterlot, probably as a guest of honor at the Gala. I don't know where my dress is, but it will show up sooner or later, I figure. Who are you? Are you here to welcome me to the ball?"
Okay, she definitely still thinks this is a dream.
"I... my name is Jade. And I'm afraid that I have some bad news. This... this isn't the Gala, and I'm not your welcoming committee. I mean, I am, but not the one you think. Sandy... this is the afterlife."
"Uh-huh. Sure it is. And I am the crowned Princess of sandwiches, who raises the Rye in the morning and the Swiss at night."
This was going to be a hassle, I could already tell. Despite myself, I could feel her raising my ire as she argued with me. I tried to take a breath and calm myself.
"Sandy, I'm not making this up. I wish that this was just a dream, but it isn't. You died in your sleep last night; this really is the afterlife."
"Jade, was it? Well Jade, I'm not sure I like this dream anymore, and I am quite sure I don't like your tone. I'm going to wake up now, and in a few moments, you will be nothing more than a forgotten ending to a strange dream. Ta-ta."
I stared on, incredulous, as she proceeded to squeeze her eyes shut and hum to herself. As she hummed, she began to smile slightly as the melody rose and fell. With a dreamy look, she opened her eyes, blinking a few times in the light. As everything came into focus, her smile faltered and wilted to a frown as she furrowed her brow. Again she squeezed her eyes shut, humming a little louder and a little faster. She cracked an eye slightly, then immediately squeezed it shut again. Her frown had distorted to a grimace as she clenched her jaw, and the merry tune she'd been humming had been corrupted by fear. She was no longer humming so much as growling, her eyes closed tightly as the tears began to leak from them. Her maniacal tune reached its crescendo as her eyes snapped open. Her voice died in her throat, a strangled squeak, just before she crashed to her knees in shock.
"Why? Why can't I wake up? Why won't you let me?"
All traces of the anger that I'd felt before were gone now, a deep pity and sadness taking its place. I sank to my knees in front of her, allowing me to look her in the eyes.
"Sandy... you aren't asleep. I'm not what's keeping you here. You know why you can't wake up."
"No, it's not true. It can't be true. This is just a terrible nightmare that I'll wake up from soon. Then I'll roll over and tell Brad all about this crazy dream I had, he'll kiss my forehead and tell me that everything is going to be alright, and then we'll go for breakfast on our way to meet with the wedding planner. Everything will be okay once I wake up. All I need to do is wake up..."
"Sandy, please listen to me. You're--"
"No! Not another word from you! I'm not, I'm just sleeping! Oh, I know! I'll pinch myself, then I'll wake up for sure!"
If not for the fact that I'd routinely faced dangerous animals in the course of my treasure seeking, I'd probably have taken a step back from this mare as she proceeded to wig out. Instead, I sat right in front of her and watched helplessly as she tried desperately to wake herself. When a simple pinch failed to wake her, she resorted to biting her left foreleg, just above the hoof. Again and again she bit, harder each time, not stopping even after she'd drawn blood. I could not look away, for this was my burden to bear; nor could I interfere, as this was something that she needed to do. She had to know that this was not a dream.
Wailing in pain and frustration, she collapsed on the floor as tears flowed from her eyes and her blood pooled on the floor. Sandy, this poor and defeated creature, began to weep on the cold tile. Raising her head towards the sky, she cried out for salvation from this nightmare.
"Princess Luna, I beg you! Please, please wake me from this nightmare! Please..."
Even after all that she had just gone through, her prayer showed that she still clung desperately to the belief that this was a dream. In response, I said the first thing that came to my mind, a habit that had often brought me trouble in the past.
"Luna holds no dominion here."
She looked away from the ceiling to stare me in the eyes. She held my gaze for a second, a fierce look in her glare, before she seemingly deflated and buried her head in her hooves. She did not wail or sob, nor did she flail about as I'd feared she might. No, she did something far worse. She mewled pitifully, a heartwrenching sound that was almost physically painful to hear as it tore at my heart.
What was I supposed to do? How was I going deal with this, how was I supposed to help her? I almost wished Sage was here to help me, but I knew he'd finally found the peace he deserved, and I wasn't about to wish him back here. With a sigh, I did the only thing I could think of: I sat down beside her and pulled her into a hug. She tried to pull away, but I held on. After her token resistance, she slumped into my side and silently wept as her body wracked with mute sobs. I stayed by her side in the stillness as she came to grips with her death, with being separated from everything she'd loved. I knew exactly what she was going through at that moment. Several seconds ticked by with only the tinkling of the fountians to break the silence. Suddenly Sandy gasped, her head shooting up. It startled me so badly that I squeaked; an annoying habit that, once discovered, invariably motivated ponies to try and make me do it agian. Sandy, however, seemed to take no notice of this; her gaze was locked on the elevator doors with an intensity that seemed like it could melt glass. As soon as it clicked in my head what it was that she was planning, the elevator doors dinged as they began to slide closed.
Sandy was on the move in an instant, hooves clacking on the marble tiles as she dashed madly towards the doors. Seeing that she was not going to make it in time, she leaped towards them, trying to catch them before they closed. With a mockingly soft clank, they closed an instant before she arrived. She collided with a thump, roaring in pain and frustration. She jumped up on unsteady hooves, pounding her front hooves against the door. Each crash of a hoof against brass seemed to echo dully within the lobby. Sandy was sobbing now, begging and pleading for the door to open, to take her back to her fiance and her life. It was too much to watch, and I couldn't bear it anymore. Walking over to the desk and retrieving the Codex, I quickly flipped through it in hopes of finding something to help her. The book was completely blank, save for the very last page. There were only six words on the page, but that was all I needed to find the solution to this dilemma. The only thing missing from my plan now was finding the right moment to implement it. Replacing the book atop the desk, I waked over to Sandy. She'd thoroughly exhausted herself while I'd searched, though she still beat feebly against the door, whimpering and begging for it to open. I sat down next to her, speaking softly to her as I did so.
"Sandy, please stop this. This won't change anything, it can't. All that's left for you is to move on, to find your peace."
"I... I don't want to. I want to go back."
"You can't, Sandy. You know, deep down, that this is true. Behind me is a golden door; once you go through that door, all of your pain is gone, all of your worries and cares fade away. This is not the end, just another beginning. All you have to do is move on."
"Move on? Move on?! I don't want eternal happiness, I don't want my pain and cares and worries to go away! I want to go home and get married, I want to live with my husband through the good and the bad, and I want to be by his side through whatever pain life can throw at us! I don't want... this. I don't want to be dead. I want Brad..."
In the back of my mind I heard a welcomed voice, advising me that this was the time to use what I'd read in the Codex. I smiled, grateful for a bit of Sage Advice.
"It's what he would have wanted. What do you think he would say if he saw you like this? Beating your hooves against a door, suffering like this because you wanted him back? I know he loved you, but I also know that he would want you to be happy, not grieving like this. You know you need to move on. He would want you to find peace."
"I... I know he would. It's just that I feel like I'm giving up on him, like I'm abandoning him."
"You're not abandoning him, Sandy. This is just the way it's meant to be. I can't pretend to know why things happen the way that they do, but I have to believe that it is for a reason. It must be."
Belle's face burned brightly in the forefront of my mind. There was a reason. There had to be.
"I... I guess so. It's just that... Jade, I'm scared."
"We all are."
Sandy's eyes, still moist with tears, finally met mine. There was much fear and pain in them, but there was something else; there was a flicker of hope. With a slight smile, I stood, offering a helping hoof to Sandy. As she took my hoof, I noticed that her wounds had somehow healed, leaving not so much as a speck of blood on her coat. I attributed this to some strange afterlife magic, and tried not to think about it. In silence, we crossed the lobby, stopping just short of the golden door as she wiped a lingering tear from her eye. With equal parts trepidation and hope, she faced me and spoke up. Her voice was cracked and raw from her screaming and crying, but it still sounded beautiful to me.
"Jade, I'm sorry for the way that I acted. This is just so much to take in at one time, and I'm still not sure about... well, about anything, really. But that's okay, I guess, because for some reason I trust you. I want to believe that there is something wonderful behind this door, even though it scares me. I... I just wanted to thank you for what you've done."
"You're welcome, Sandy. I wish I could tell you more about what lay on the other side of the door, but I can't. You'll have to find out for yourself."
Sandy just nodded, a small smile on her face as she stepped forward, grasping the handle. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to gather herself before she crossed over.
As the door swung open, she began to hum the same tune from earlier. There was a flash of light, and Sandy was gone.
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, feeling relief wash over me. Turning to head back to my desk, I found myself humming a familiar tune.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Perhaps a half hour later I wound up sitting at the desk, feeling conflicting feelings and just generally being bored. Having learned long ago that boredom always leads me into trouble, I searched for ways to occupy myself, preferably without breaking anything. Once more, my eyes found the Codex sitting on the desk. I picked it up, turning it over and over in my hooves as I carefully inspected it. The covers were slabs of jade, finely polished and boasting a simple scroll motif. The bindings were made of gold intertwined with a fine silken thread, and were intricately engraved with a solar motif in the style of the ancient Mareans. There were no distinctive markings by which to assign either period or culture of its origin. I flipped it open to check the inside of the cover for some sort of marking, but the first page was stuck to it. I did a double take as I caught sight of a tattered corner of paper sticking out from between the pages of the Codex. Carefully, I pulled the slip from the pages, a slip that turned out to be a newspaper clipping. The date on the page was from eleven years ago.
I felt a shiver run up and down my spine as I read the article. The article was an obituary of sorts, marking the end of a saga like a bookend to a life. I read and re-read the article, wanting to make sure that I'd gotten it right, that I wasn't jumping to conclusions or grasping at straws. After the third time I read it, there was no doubt left in my mind; this article was about Sage. The details were scarce, but they were enough to put the picture together. Sage had watched as his daughter was killed by another pony. Though the article never said by what mechanism she'd died, it was never once called murder. It seemed to be some sort of preventable accident, the result of sheer negligence. What was called murder, however, was what Sage did next. In the immediate aftermath of the incident that claimed his daughter, he struck down the one responsible for her death. In the wake of his actions, he was charged with murder and sentenced to death; this article was the footnote on his life, summing it up curtly.
So that was it. That was Sage's crime. I felt my impression of him warping to fit this new mental image of him, his politeness and soft spoken demeanor suddenly taking on a more ominous purpose. I immediately and violently shook these thoughts from my head. Sage had acted irrationally, but under the circumstances, it was understandable. Even setting aside the circumstances, the buck had paid his penance. He'd been absolved by whatever greater power there was, and if it was good enough for them, then who was I to say any differently?
I nodded to nopony, affirming my decision. Just as I was turning the page, the elevator dinged. I immediately began to panic for a second or two before I managed to get a hold of myself. An older buck, perhaps in his mid thirties stepped out, staring blankly around the lobby. His eyes locked on me as I sat behind the desk, and he slowly trotted towards me. Unsure of what else to do, I just sat there and smiled. As he moseyed across the lobby, taking his sweet time, I just happened to recall that I had the Codex open. Glancing down, I flipped a page, and quickly gathered everything I thought I would need to help him to the next life. As he finally got to within five meters of the desk, I greeted him with a smile.
"Hello, and welcome to the afterlife. My name is Jade, how can I help you?"
He just sort of stared at me, as if I'd been speaking another language. I was on the verge of repeating myself when he spoke up.
"Am I dead?"
No, this is the afterlife for breakfast. I'm here to help you accept this and move on to the Ever-After luncheon.
I'd never been a patient one, and being dead wasn't exactly inspiring me to change that. Even so, I didn't think it'd be a good idea to yell at a guest on the first day. As nicely as I could, I stifled my sarcasm and replied to him.
"As a door knob, sir."
"Where are the Princesses?"
The what now? I raised an eyebrow at this, though I tried to maintain a warm expression. My initial instinct was to tell him that the Princesses were not here and never would be, but I reconsidered for a moment. I wasn't actually sure, but I knew where to look. Perhaps the Codex could tell me if the Princesses ever came here, a question that hadn't occurred to me before now. However, now that it had, it was eating me alive in anticipation of the answer. Opening the Codex to another page, I couldn't help but facehoof, though I quickly played it off as a cough. There was only one word written on the page, penned in fancy calligraphy. Canterlot. Honestly, I'm not sure what I expected.
"They appear to be in Canterlot."
The buck just nodded, as if I'd just told him the soup of the day. Instead of asking another question, acknowledging my answer in a verbal manner, or doing... well, anything, really, he just stood there. Just. Stood there. Dead or not, I was beginning to run low on patience. I cleared my throat rather loudly, which had almost no effect. He just turned his vacant gaze towards me once more. While I was still able to pretend I had any professionalism left, I spoke up and broke the silence.
"Sir, if you are ready to move on into the ever after, the door is just over there."
Again, no verbal response. He just turned and walked away, disappearing through the door, leaving a flash of light and a confused mare in his wake. I couldn't really understand what had just happened here, and I was internally debating as to whether or not I preferred it when the guests flipped out.
As I was doing this, the elevator dinged again and disgorged yet another guest. This one was an elderly buck, one who wobbled forward on shaky knees. I took a moment to contemplate what sadistic sort of pony would create a lobby so vast for the old buck to cross. I never bothered to check the Codex; I merely stood and went to his side to offer a helping hoof. There was no plan at this time, I was merely acting on instinct and compassion as I moved to assist. It wasn't until I'd drawn within a few meters of him that it dawned on me. I'd known this pony before, back when he was alive. His age spots and tufty mane were at once familiar to me.
I'd never learned his name, but once more I was awed by the duality of life and death. When I'd met him the first time, he had fallen while crossing a street, impeding several carts and carriages and drawing the ire of their drivers. I'd seen him stumble and fall, and I was immediately struck by the way nopony moved to help him. As furious as I was at the drivers for yelling; I was equally, if not more, infuriated at the ponies who stepped around him. So I'd done then what I was doing now. I helped him to his hooves and taken him by the shoulder as I helped him walk. The entire scene played back in my mind the instant before I reached him, and the glimmer of recognition in his eyes told me that he remembered. Pushing his thick glasses farther up on his nose, he smile and spoke.
"I remember you, young mare. You were very nice to me in the market yesterday, and then you were gone before I could thank you. Such manners, your mother would be proud of you."
"You're welcome, sir. Are you feeling better today?"
And so we made small talk as I helped him to the door. He'd known that he was dead and was looking forward to the Ever-After. I was grateful for the small talk, as it allowed my mind to wander over his first sentence and all it implied. That day in the market had come months before my ill-fated expedition, and yet he spoke as if it was yesterday. Which, as I recalled Sage's explanation of the way that time looped and curled around on itself, was entirely plausible. The job of receptionist brings to you the ponies that you needed to see, indeed. As this elderly buck stepped forward into the light and passed on, he'd left a change in me. He was a reminder that small acts of kindness can mean far more to those who received them than those who bestowed them. Retiring to the desk once more, I was struck by an unusually philosophical thought.
What sort of world did we live in that an act of kindness was the oddity? Should not the callous disregard exhibited by those who walked around been much more poignant than the action of the one who did not?
For what must have been a half an hour, I contemplated the aspects of a society that would foster these sort of aspects. Soon after, I found myself being bored as I resigned and flipped open the Codex. On its naked pages, there was a neatly penned "to-do" list. Mop the floor, clean the fountains, and... brew coffee? Really? Was the Codex expecting company or something? Was I going to be the unwitting host to a book club?
Heh. Book club... with the Codex. Oh, sweet Celestia, I'm going insane.
I quickly looked for cleaning supplies under the desk, intent on beginning these tasks as soon as possible to preserve what was left of my sanity. I found a fire evacuation plan taped to the inside of the cabinet under the desk, something that at first struck me as incredibly amusing and then as a terrifying possibility. Could this place catch on fire?
Studying the map on the evacuation plan did nothing to calm my fears, for there were no listed escape routes. What did prove useful, however, was the fact that the diagram of the lobby indicated the presence of a janitorial closet recessed behind the desk. My initial impulse was to groan in frustration, for there was clearly no closet behind me. Instead, I turned, searching the wall for a button or lever of some sort. Being a paleo-cryptologist had its perks, and in short order I was able to locate the hidden lever. The fact that it was labeled "closet" didn't hurt, though it did take most of the fun out of it.
The wall slid back about ten centimeters before sliding to the right, revealing a space about three meters deep and five meters wide. The door was positioned on the left side of the room, and racks of neatly organized tools stretched out to my right across the back wall. Nestled against the back wall was a sink and a work table, the latter of which was sporting a fancy coffee maker. Walking into the depths of the room, I retrieved the mop from where it hung over the floor drain and got to work.
In the span of an hour, I had mopped the floor and erased any traces of blood, cleansed the fountains of every speck of green algae, and made two pots of coffee. I made two because I drank the first out of boredom and nervous habit. No sooner had I begun to settle in and enjoy my caffeine fueled bliss than my reverie was shattered. In perfect unison, the coffee pot and the elevator dinged.
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