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// Death and it's Practical Applications in Life 
// Story: Twilight Sparkle Commits Suicide for Science 
// by AlesFlamas 
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Ways to die. There are so very, very many ways to die. Certainly more than one thousand. Some of the ways to die are dumb; some of them were tragic; in a dark, sadistic sort of way, many of them could be considered funny. Some deaths are long and painful while others are quick and painless. Others cause so much pain in an instant, that while the sufferer may feel as though time drags on for hours, they are dead in under a minute. Others still are quite painless, but truly do drag on and on, giving the soon-to-be-deceased ample time to contemplate their fate. . . or seek medical attention; whichever they prefer. But Princess Twilight Sparkle did not care whether or not her death was painful. She did not care if it was painless. She did not care whether it seemed dumb, or tragic, or even funny in a grim kind of way. Twilight Sparkle just wanted to be dead.

Now this wasn't to say that Twilight was unhappy with life. Actually, she couldn't be happier. She was surrounded by great friends and the Cutie Mark Crusaders were turning out to be enthusiastic students. For Celestia's sake, she was an Alicorn princess! Well, a princess-in-training at least. But still, she was an alicorn. And as an alicorn, Twilight wasn't entirely sure she could die anymore. But she still had to try.

An observer might ask themselves why, if she's so happy, would Twilight want to kill herself so badly? To fully understand, one only has to look to this years Apple Bucking season. The trees had been much stiffer this year than in previous years, and the bucking had been much more difficult because of it. A little too difficult. One tree in particular had refused to give up it's fruits and had been giving Big Macintosh something of a problem. For days, he'd gone back to it, trying to force at least one apple to fall. He'd refused to let anypony else touch it. It became something of a personal issue with him. It could be said that he won out in the end, but that's only because the tree trunk snapped clean in half. It could also be said that he lost, because when the tree fell over, it landed on him, breaking his hind legs, three ribs and fracturing his skull. The bleeding had been profuse and he'd punctured a lung. Needless to say, he was in pretty bad shape; honestly, it hadn't looked like he would recover. The Apples had been worried sick for weeks. Literally. Granny Smith worried herself into a heart attack, which put her in the hospital as well. Applejack and Applebloom had been devastated, afraid that they would lose their brother and grandmother, all in the same month. Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and the others had spent most of that month rotating between harvesting apples and providing the Apples with emotional support. On one of her visits to the hospital, Twilight had been presented with a hard-to-answer question by a rather distressed Applebloom: "Where do ponies go when they die?" Twilight had been unsure of how to answer the question. She didn't know how to answer the question. She didn't know the answer. 

Big Mac and Granny Smith both managed to pull through without too many complications (though there's a good chance Big Mac will never have children) but for days after, Applebloom's question haunted Twilight. And days turned to weeks turned to months, until the burning shame of her ignorance on the topic drove her to relative insanity. And so began a bout of research which brought some peace to Twilight's mind; that peace being that she wasn't the only pony unaware of what occurred after death. In fact, nopony, or zebra, or griffon had ever figured it out, a discovery which only made her more upset. How could such an important question have gone unanswered for so long?

Twilight quickly discovered why the question had gone unanswered after her first attempt at suicide: fear. Fear held her back. Fear of what her friends and family would do upon discovering her; fear of how it would feel; fear of what might lay on the other side of the figurative curtain that was life. But fear was just the body's natural reaction to danger, little more than a primitive instinct. Instincts could be suppressed, but one key issue still remained. Just how would Twilight return to her body after killing herself? Was it even possible? Yet another question, seemingly without an answer, for Twilight to spend her time on.



"Let's see. . . out-of-body experience spell? No, no, that won't work. I mean, it's hardly death. Nerve pinching spell? No. . . that would do some serious damage to my brain. I need my brain, for science and. . . stuff."

"Twilight?" Spike said, concerned.

"Blood-flow stanching? Well mayb- no, that would damage my brain too."

"Hey, Twilight!"

"Wha-huh? Oh. Spike. It's you. Do you need anything? I'm kinda busy here."

"Yeah, I know. You've been busy for the past week. So busy that you haven't slept. For the past week."

"Actually, I came across an incredibly useful spell in my search for a death-spell. It allows me to compact the REM cycle almost infinitesimally. I've done it at least, four. . . maybe five times."

"Meaning?"

"I can get a full nights rest just by blinking."

". . .Right. That's great and all, but-"

"Spike, could you hurry it up? I'd really like to get back to my research."

"But that's all you've been doing: research. Normally I'd just chalk it up to you being you, and I totally respect your desire to answer unanswerable questions, but this whole obsession with death you've developed seems really unhealthy."

"Is it unhealthy to thirst for knowledge, Spike? Is it unhealthy to try and answer one of life's greatest question?

"It is when you're willing to kill yourself to do it! What if you can't find a way to bring yourself back, huh, Twilight? What good will the answer be then? And what will our friends do when they find out you're dead?"

"They wouldn't do anything, because I wouldn't be dead."

"Twilight, I don't care what you teach it about friendship, or how you teach it to act, that thing in the basement isn't you! It doesn't have your memories or your life experiences, or- or- For Celestia's sake, it called me Spork!"

"Believe me, Spike, if the clone has to take my place, nopony will be able to tell the difference. Unlike Pinkie's clones, which were obsessed with having fun and nothing but, Mirror Twilight can learn and is actually quite intelligent."

"It. Called. Me. Spork. And I don't care how smart it is Twilight, or who it convinces, I'll know it's not you."

"But you won't tell anypony, will you?"

". . . . . .No, I won't. But I'll be really upset about it. And, you know, you'll be dead, so. . . I guess I'll be sad about that."

". . .Spike. I know this is to be tough for you. But I have to know. I can't just let knowledge this important be left in the dark. So i'm going to need you to be strong. For me. Can you do that?"

". . .Yeah. I guess I can."

"And it's okay if you want to leave for a bit Spike. Watching me do nothing but research how to kill myself probably doesn't have much in the way of entertainment value."

"I've stuck with you this long. And besides, I don't have anything I want to go see. Or do. Watching you try to kill yourself is probably the most interesting thing going on in Ponyville right now. You know, in a morbid, depressing kinda way."

"Oh. Well then."

"There's one thing I don't get though, Twilight. Why can't Pinkie and Rarity and all the others know about this? Why do we even need Mirror Twilight?"

"Simple, Spike. If any of them knew what I was doing, they'd try to stop me. And in the event that they didn't stop me, they would probably all spiral into some kind of crazy depression. And depressed Elements of Harmony make for a very unsafe Equestria. Which leads us to Mirror Twilight, who will effectively replace me should this experiment go awry. If they knew about her, they wouldn't treat her like they treat me. They wouldn't treat her like a friend. Which, again, Elements of Harmony, and such. Do you get it?"

"I guess. I still don't like it, but I guess I get it."

"Great. Now would you be a dear and get me Starswirl the Bearded's spellbook?"

"Why? You've already looked through it about ten times. I'm pretty sure you'd have found a death-spell by now."

"You never know what you'll find the eleventh time through. True, there are no death-spells in this book, but it's just one out of who knows how many Starswirl wrote. I mean, he has an entire wing in Canterlot Castle named after him! This book can't possibly contain all of the spells he ever created. But it might contain some allusion to a spell in a book I haven't even seen yet. So I just have to look carefully."

Twilight opened the book, taking extra care to scan every inch of every page for some clue that might help her in her search. She didn't have to look very far, as she noticed something she'd somehow managed to overlook the previous ten times she'd read the book. On the cover page was the title, as usual: A Compendium of Spells, Practical and Conventional or Otherwise, by Starswirl the Bearded. But under the title, in almost illegible writing was a subtext, which read, 'as approved by the Equestrian Royal Family and Committee of Ethics.'

"I knew it!" Twilight shouted gleefully.

"What is it, Twilight?"

"This book is abridged! The spells in it were run through a committee, which means some of them had to have been left out. For safety reasons, of course. The death spell might have been one of them."

"Assuming it existed in the first place."

"Hush, you. Now grab a quill and some parchment. I need you to take a letter."

Twilight spent the next half hour giving Spike things to write, explaining the whole situation to Princess Celestia: Her burning desire for knowledge, her need to know what occurred after death. She explained the weeks and weeks of research she'd put into the topic and how every possible lead had wound up either a dead end or some philosophical claptrap. She talked of Mirror Twilight's conception and how she knew that Starswirl must have developed some kind of spell pertaining to death, and asked if there was such a spell, that she be allowed to have it for the purpose of answering the question which had maddened her. When she was done delegating and Spike was done writing, Spike set fire to the scroll; they both watched as the cloud of smoke drifted off towards Canterlot Castle.

It was several days before they received a reply. Twilight opened the letter with excited anxiety. What would her former teacher think of all this? Would she be supportive, disapproving. . . would she even care?

"What does it say Twilight?"

"I don't know, Spike, I just opened it. Geez. . . have a little patience, why don't you."

"Well excuuuuuse me , Princess."

"You're excused. Now, let's see what this letter says. Ahem. . ."

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

The path you have chosen to walk down is a very dangerous one. The question you ask has baffled the greatest minds of all pony races for centuries, and I believe there is a reason for that. I do not believe we are meant to know what occurs after death. And even if we were to be given such knowledge, it would be a curse, a burden, on all who bore it. Such information would bring about madness, of this I am sure. But I digress.

As your former teacher, I cannot condone such an experiment, I am opposed to violent magic in general, but a spell designed specifically to kill the user is beyond the scope of my disgust, and given the choice, I would forbid you from even thinking of using such a spell. But it is not my choice; I am not your teacher anymore. As your friend however I must beg of you: do not go through with this. I have watched you grow from a fill into a strong, intelligent mare, and far more. No knowledge is worth risking your life for and I myself don't know how I would go on without you. But if you will not cease this insanity on my behalf, please, do it for your friends. What would they do without you? What would Equestria do without you?

I believe that I have shown just how much I disapprove of your intentions, Twilight. But again, I cannot control your actions. Shortly after this letter, a scroll should arrive containing the instruction necessary to perform Starswirl the Bearded's temporary death spell. Do with it as you see fit, but please: be careful.

Your former teacher and concerned friend,
Princess Celestia.

The sound of Spike belching let Twilight know that the death spell had arrived. She grabbed it from the air as soon as it materialized. 

"Told you so, Spike."

"Yeah, whatever. Have fun killing yourself; I'm gonna go take a nap."

Twilight watched Spike climb the stairs, get in his basket, and pull the covers over his head. She knew he didn't mean it.; he was just worried and the worry was expressing itself through snarkiness. But Spike's worries could not keep Twilight from her self-appointed task. She would discover the secrets of death, whatever the cost.

Twilight studied the scroll containing Starswirl's spell for roughly ten minutes. The process seemed simple enough. The caster simply had to place a small pocket of magic with a weak detonation spell placed upon it in either the cranium or the thoracic cavity; the caster then magically deactivates every one of their organ systems, ending with the brain. In theory, after the caster has shut down their body, the detonation of the magic pocket releases a burst of energy which should jumpstart the various systems into proper function. According to notes left by Starswirl himself, the tests he'd conducted had yielded mixed results. Exactly half of the ponies he'd experimented on had failed to revive successfully, either because the burst of energy had caused their organs to explode or failed to go off altogether. Basically the spell was risky and unreliable. In one of the notes, Starswirl had even stated that he'd ceased testing because the loss of life was not worth any answers his experiments might provide, which, so far as he could see, were non-existent.

Oh how wrong he was.

Twilight wasn't concerned with the fifty-fifty chances of coming out of this alive. If there was even a chance she might survive this ordeal, she was satisfied. If not. . . well that's what Mirror Twilight was for.

Twilight focused her magic into a pocket just above her heart. Setting it to detonate after five minutes, she shut down all her bodily systems but her brain. Satisfied with the execution of her. . . execution, she threw the literal kill switch on her brain. And then darkness.