It was a week after Sparkle's 17th birthday, over a year before the return of Princess Luna, and Sparkle was waking up.
Actually, "waking up" was not correct. "Waking up" in the traditional meaning implied a return to awareness from the state of normal sleep, a gradual process that generally left a pony feeling better than the night before, excluding other circumstances. Generally, they also knew where they were and roughly how long had passed since they had fallen asleep.
Sparkle was returning to consciousness with no idea of time or place while feeling distinctly like crap. Her stomach wanted to hurl, her head pounded in time with her heart, and her mouth felt like she had gargled acetone. She'd been poisoned.
She tried to gather her magic, and was disappointed when she got naught but a trickle of power. If she'd been more lucid, she would have realized that she had been drained of most of her magic rather than simply being exhausted. As it was, the effort of calling her power to her was too much for her stomach to handle; it voiced its protests all over her fur.
It was then that she realized that she wasn't sitting or lying down, but was positioned vertically on her rear hooves, strapped against the wall. That explained why her shoulders hurt so much.
She grunted and groaned. She had meant to speak, seeking information, but between her fatigue and her clouded mind, whatever she had intended to say came out as garbled base sounds. It was, however, enough to draw the attention of the one in the room with her.
A sharp pain on her face assaulted Sparkle's mind, quickly clearing the fog from her thoughts. "Wake up." She opened her eyes to see a lime-green hoof poised to strike her again.
"'M 'wake," Sparkle managed to mumble. Something that felt suspiciously like a collar clicked tight around her neck. The restraints on her forehooves then released, causing her to drop like a puppet with cut strings.
"Stand and follow," the voice said again. When she didn't immediately move, the voice added, "Now."
Gritting her teeth, Sparkle willed her legs to lift her up. Oh so slowly they complied, protesting in pain all the way. Eventually, though, she made it to a standing position. “Walk,” the voice commanded again. Sparkle couldn’t tell if it were a mare’s or a stallion’s voice; it was too androgynous to be sure.
A tug on the collar nearly made her fall over, but it got her walking. It would have also made her mad - they had collared and leashed her, for crying out loud - but she was too scared and confused at the moment.
That confusion was fading fast, however. Sparkle’s analytical mind started taking stock of the situation. She was in a windowless, stone room, possibly a dungeon cell. She was being held captive and had been kidnapped and sedated an unknown time ago. Her stomach had had a tiny bit of food left in it when she had been sick, so she had been under for at most a few hours. The pull on her mind that always pointed to Twilight said that she was a long distance away, meaning that Sparkle had been taken by train, pegasi, or magic. Conclusion: Her capture was recent and rescue was far away, both in position and time; she would have to free herself.
Addendums: her magic was low and possibly suppressed, her body was fatigued, she had no idea where Thorn was, and the hallway she and her captor were walking through had no indication of exit, although the moisture seeping in indicated she would have to ascend. Conclusion two: a combat/resistance based escape would be impractical.
Addendums the second, she appended to her thoughts: there existed evidence of memory tampering. The foggy recollection of the events leading up to waking back in that cell was too clean cut, with a definite starting point, possibly the work of a sloppy vampire. She'd have to get a specter to help her reconstruct those memories when she was free.
The androgynous pony leading her around brought her into a large, candlelit chamber. The scent of blood and incense tickled her nose, but Sparkle didn’t sneeze. The sight did however make her gasp in surprise.
In the middle of the room sat the largest ritual altar she had ever seen, the kind only used to summon the most powerful of beings. Runes drawn with blood and bones filled the floor, and dozens of hooded ponies stood at strategic places to power it. And, at the center of the room, just inside the boundaries of the containment circle, were six raised stone platforms, each about the size of a small bed. On each of five of them was a mare, tied up and gagged. Two earth ponies, two pegasi, and a single unicorn.
And Sparkle was being lead to the last.
“Please... Don’t...” the natural necromancer and currently captured pony weakly protested. Her objections went ignored, as two unicorns appeared behind her, gagging her and picking her up in seemingly one swift movement. Just as swiftly, she was hoisted up onto the last stone slab and tied down. The movement of her head was left unobstructed, allowing her to turn it enough to see another door.
And, as if waiting for her to look, the door opened a second after her eyes spotted it. A mare walked in, her robes far more regal than her hooded compatriots. She moved forwards with an inequine grace, more flowing than actually walking.
It took a second to spot, but Sparkle eventually realized that the mare's soul burned backwards, as strange as that sounded, and that meant only one thing: vampire.
"Mares and gentlecolts, today is the day," she pronounced, her voice as smooth as her gait. "Today is the day that our dreams come true. Today, we gain the power to take the throne that is rightfully ours. Today is the day that nations will bow before us. Today is the beginning of the end. Today. Is. APOCALYPSE!"
The cheers of approval echoed loudly in the cathedral-like chamber. Ponies stomped their hooves and whistled in excitement. As for the six sacrificial mares, five of them openly wept while Sparkle sat in angry silence.
The leader continued speaking. “Before us are the six mares who so selflessly volunteered their lives for our cause. And among them, we have Canterlot’s resident necromancer as a special guest. Soon, her power and more will be ours. Soon, we shall command the power of Death Herself!” With a flourish of her hoof, she again set the gathered ponies into a frenzy.
Sparkle’s anger evaporated in an instant, shoved aside by raw dread. They were planning on summoning Death personified. Unlike the other gods and goddesses, Death only took physical form when summoned; that probably was the only reason there was life left on the planet. And, unlike the others, her form was completely irrational. The legends said that eyes melted at the sight of her, for she never bothered to shield her true form from mortal eyes.
Unlike day, night, and the four elements, which could be understood by mortals, the question remained: what was Death?
“Mares and stallions, take your places!” The leader stepped up to a spoke protruding from the circular runes. “On your marks! Ready, begin!”
The magic of nearly forty ponies filled the air. Below, the dried blood that made up the runes alit with a rainbow of color, though it gradually darkened to black as the three dozen casters corrected the spin of their magic. There was a click, more felt than heard, and the runes really came alive with magic.
The power began to condense at the center of the circle, frighteningly close to where Sparkle lay helpless. A shield materialized to contain the building energy, but on the wrong side of the captives, trapping them inside with the dark energy.
To the non unicorns of the captive group, the chanting of their captors would sound like nonsense. To the unicorn pair, however, it sounded like the most sinister choir that they could have ever imagined.
“To the Goddess Of Death, we do beckon thee,
come to us now, answer us our plea.
for we have offered a sacrifice,
and hope it should suffice.
O’ Goddess Of Death! Show Yourself to Us!”
The common tongue only offered a poor translation of the chant, for the connotations provided by the magical language were much more terrifying.
Over the chanting of the cultists, Sparkle tried to shout a warning to her fellow captives to close their eyes. Sadly, between the gag and the ambient noise, which was steadily growing by the second, Sparkle’s warning went unheard.
There was a sudden crash, like the combined sound of every window ever made all shattering at once. Then, there was absolutely, deafening silence. The sound of a pin drop, as loud as it would have been in that silence, would have been a welcome reprieve. With her eyes closed and her other senses useless at the moment, Sparkle’s entire worldview was sound and sound alone.
Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap.
Six beats, like hooves descending upon stone. Two too many to be one pony, but two too few a pair.
Then, the sound of shattering un-happened as the hole in reality sealed itself once more.
The hooves tapped again.
1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4...
They were coming closer.
Where were the other two hoof beats?
They were coming closer.
What was going on?
They were right bucking next to her!
Silence. Again, it was so absolute a sensation that Sparkle wanted to cry out to end the silence, but she could not. She would not.
A hoof brushed against her tear-streaked cheek. She recoiled from the touch, and, in doing so, the gag that bound her mouth fell away as if it had been cut.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen those eyes, Sparkle,” an unfamiliar mare's voice said. Despite how normal it sounded, it possessed a faint, otherworldly quality to it. Yet, it also sounded... wistful? “May I see them again? I’ve missed them so.”
She couldn’t not comply. Her lavender eyes creeped open, fearing the worst. Would there be death and destruction? An eldritch abomination that would burn her eyes out the moment, or-
There was no more time for thoughts; her purple eyes were open. And, as it turned out, she saw nothing of what she was expecting.
Above her stood a grey coated, black maned pony, with eyes the same hue as her own. Her short mane waved gently, spreading like ink in flowing water. While not extremely beautiful, she wasn’t ugly either.
A curved horn adorned her head, and sharpened fangs filled her mouth. She would have reminded Sparkle greatly of the depictions of King Sombra in his final days, had Sombra been a mare, were it not for the small grin on her lips and the eyes devoid of all malice she looked at her with. And though Sparkle could not see Death's soul, the goddess's eyes were strangely full of life.
“There we go!” Her horn flickered, causing the rest of Sparkle’s restraints to fall away. She then helped pull Sparkle to her hooves. “Help me untie the others, would you kindly?”
Sparkle, without voice despite the lack of a gag, nodded and complied. She trotted over and clumsily tried to untie the pegasus nearest to her. A minute later, though, she was still trying to untie it when the mare finished undoing the knot for her. “Here, let me... There. Now, about our little audience...”
The mare turned on a bit and faced the vampiric leader of the cult, who, like all the other summoners, was bowing with her face to the ground so as to not gaze upon Death’s form. From this angle, Sparkle could see the cutie mark on her flanks: A six-eyed, fanged crystal skull biting a starburst pattern; with the exception of the eyes, it was identical to her own mark.
“YoUr GiFt To Me HaS bEeN AcCePtEd,” Death stated, though Sparkle highly doubted that the twisted sound that emerged from her was produced by a pony throat. “SpEaK nOw. TeLl Me YoUr TeRmS. wHy HaVe YoU bRoUgHt Me HeRe?”
“O’ great and powerful Lady of the Dead, o’ sinister Reaper of Souls, we beg of you, take this sacrifice and bestow upon us the power of your blessing,” the leader said, groveling as much as she could.
“I sEe No SaCrIfIcE bEfOrE mE,” Death replied. “wHaT pAyMeNt Do YoU oFfEr?”
Sparkle, leader, and cultists alike were confused. “But my Lady, I don’t mean to offend, but you just said that you accepted the sacrifice of these six mares.”
“YoU aRe MiStAkEn. ThEsE fIvE aNd A hAlF sOuLs WeRe InSiDe ThE cIrCle, SuRreNdErEd To KeEp Me FrOm KiLlInG yOu On SiGhT. ThEy ArE nOt PaYmEnT, bUt A gIfT,” Death answered.
The leader gulped in obvious distress. “Then, O’ Lady, what would you accept as a sacrifice for your kindly assistance?”
The pony incarnation of Death did not immediately answer. Instead, she turned to the five mares behind her. In a soft voice, she said, “I would prefer you to not watch, but you can if you want. You, Sparkle, you should keep your eyes open.” Turning back around, she addressed the cult. “I rEqUiRe ThIrTy-FiVe TaInTeD sOuLs AnD tHe SoUl Of OnE vAmPiRe, PaId In AdVaNcE.” She smirked. “AnD bY tHaT, i MeAn NoW.”
Her body surged upwards in height, tripling in less than a second. The torso lengthened, and from the middle, an extra pair of legs emerged. Her tail shot outward, condensing into countless black vines adorned with off-white spikes, which thrashed about wildly as they grew. Across her body, bone-like structures erupted from her skin, even as every piece of tissue seemed to crystallize. From her back, two wings burst into existence, dragon-like in shape but missing the membrane.
It was her head that changed the most though. Now encased in black crystal reminiscent of their shared cutie mark, her skull-like head bore several horns that formed a ridge from forehead to spine, where they continued as bony spurs from each vertebrae. Her eyes too had changed. The red and green coloration and the purple smoke emerging from them was now the most normal thing about them. Now totalling six of various sizes, each eye had two or three irises of varying size, all pointing in different direction. And her mouth, oh sweet Celestia, her mouth! Thousands of teeth, more than could physically fit into any mouth, filled the gaping chasm below her nose. The mouth itself, despite being still proportioned correctly for the body, simultaneously appeared far larger than it could possibly be in a logical contradiction of reality.
All of this takes time to say, but in reality, the transformation happened quicker than most ponies could react to anything.
Death’s bony wings flared, and with it came not a blast of wind, but a ripple in the very fabric of space and time. There was no membrane between the fingers of the wings; what was there was worse, so much worse. Before Sparkle’s eyes were twin portals to the infernal pits, a place in the afterlife rumored to make Tartarus look like daycare.
Then there was motion, and there was noise. A flurry of activity so fast that none of the six mares in the center of the circle could see what was happening, and a sound so harsh that they couldn’t distinguish anything. But, when the dust settled - quite literally, in fact - all that remained was Death, standing over a single corpse and feasting on its remaining flesh, which disappeared down her gullet in a heartbeat.
The creature, for she could be nothing else, looked at the six, each of her eyes focused on a different mare. Her wicked horn darkened and -
Sparkle was standing in a grassy field. The wind blew gently on her coat. The scent of honeysuckle playfully greeted her nose. The solid white sky shone softly down upon her. It was nice, peaceful.
“I take it you have some questions?” Sparkle whirled around. The gray mare was behind her. Oddly, Sparkle didn’t feel nearly as terrified as before. Perhaps it was something to do with their surroundings. Whatever the case, Sparkle was calm now.
“Where are we?” the mortal mare asked.
“The Elysian Fields. Paradise. Whatever you want to call it. It’s not really paradise, that’s impossible, but it’s good enough in the ways that count,” she replied. “It’s the great sleep, the wonderful dream.”
Sparkle sat down. “I’m dead. That’s it. Just like that. You killed me,” she said, as if stating the weather was sunny and boring.
Death laughed. It reminded Sparkle of her mother’s own laugh. “Hardly. You don’t have to be dead to enter my domain, if I let you.”
“Oh.” She blinked, not quite sure how to take that. She was still struggling to process all that she had seen in less than twenty minutes.
Death sat down next to her, a tad too close for comfort. Sparkle didn’t protest, however. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, though I suppose this is your first time seeing me. And Obsidian Knife too, for that matter. Funny how things like this happen when you get pulled outside of time.”
“Obsidian Knife? Time?” Sparkle asked.
“Ah... Spoilers,” Death replied. “She was a friend of ours, I’ll tell you that much. I wear her face when I interact with mortals; my normal appearance tends to drive them insane, you see. You’ll meet her, what, three... four years from now? Something like that. The first time I meet you, from my perspective, is four-ish years from now. I’m not sure... I’m very old now, compared to then. Although for my kind, age is hard to describe. I’m as old as life itself, and yet not.” She looked at the mortal mare.
“Ah...”
“You don’t seem very talkative, little one,” she commented.
“I’ve just...”
“Been through quite an ordeal, I know. If it makes you feel better, the others that were with you are still alive. I’ve already taken them back to their homes, with my blessing. The cultists paid for it, after all. Somepony may as well benefit,” Death said.
There was silence, a comfortable one this time.
“Can I see my parents?” Sparkle suddenly asked.
Death sighed. “I’m sorry. I can’t do that. As I said, time flows differently for me, and for this world by extension. Even I am subject to the laws of time, though I skirt them on occasion. But your parents are from your own future. If I were to let you see them, the paradox would be catastrophic. Trust me, you do not mess with time.”
Death looked off into the distance. “Speaking of time, it’s almost up, I’m afraid.”
“Really?” Sparkle asked. She could sit here for eternity, it was so peaceful, so the thought of actually leaving bothered her. “I don’t really want to go...”
“Ah, come on. That’s enough Elysium for you today. Off we-”
“-go.” They were in Canterlot, with the sunrise swiftly appearing on the horizon behind them.
Sparkle jumped. The transition had been unnoticable. Death hadn’t even stopped speaking, and yet one moment she was there, and now she was here, and standing as if she had been standing here for a minute and only now just noticed.
“Hey, Sparkle?”
“Yes?”
"A word of advice, though you may not understand just yet: A coin has two sides, and one is always the winner. Flip accordingly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the lavender mare asked.
She was alone.